Indianapolis Times, Volume 43, Number 293, Indianapolis, Marion County, 16 April 1932 — Page 13

APRIL 16, 1932

•ki M! mon HunTGR/ m BY MABEL McELLIOTT m/932 ay mu rftvrct m*.

BF.C.IN HERE TODAY * SUSAN CAREY finishes busines*school and eeur* n job * secretary to ERNEST HEATH. architect. JACK WARINO. divorced, tries to flirt with her but is rebuffed. REN LAMPMAN. a moody young mutlclan. takes Susan to a studio party, Ut ehe docs not ilke his triends. Susan realises rt> cares deeply lor BOR DUNEAR. vount millionaire she met at business school. At lunch one day Bob Is about to tell her something important when L IJISE ACKFOYD. a society girl. Interrupts. Bhortln afterward he sails for Europe. Susan's AUNT JESSIE, with whom she lives, departs for a visit. Susan is lonely and goes for a drive with Waring. He kisses her and she resolves never 'to bo out with him again, RAY FLANNERY. employed in tha office across the hall, gives Susan some advice about being "a good sport." NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER FIFTEEN (Continued) Ray paid her check, dazzled the fountain boy with a smile, and linked her arm companionably in the other girl's. "You mind what I say,” she finished, "and you’ll be sitting pretty.” CHAPTER SIXTEEN IT was Saturday afternoon during the third week of Aunt Jessie’s absence. Susan had received a wire only that morning saying her aunt would return on the 7 o'clock train. Now, at 1 o’clock, the long aftertioon yawned before her. Is there anything in all the world so dreary as a half holiday spent alone? The world seems full of chattering, noisy groups and couples. Young men with tennis racquets, girls in thin white, elderly men with golf bags, mothers with children bound lor the beaches. Susan couldn’t decide quite what to do with herself. She wandered down to Michigan avenue, decided against lunching alone, and finally managed to struggle to the top of a north bound bus. She would buy some sandwiches, •she decided, and get oil the bus in Lincoln park and picnic all by herself. That would be better than going home to an empty house. It was such a day as occasionally comes to Chicago in August, a day divinely blue, superbly cool. The sun was warm and yet already, so early as this, there was a hint of autumn's crispness in the air. Susan took off her hat and let the lake breezes ruffle her hair into little ringlets. She felt perfectly happy, at peace with the world. It was luxury, just to be alone on such a day as this. She felt superior to the noisy groups she had envied half an hour before. While they were wearing themselves out on tennis courts or golf links, she, Susan Carey, would enjoy the glory of the day. The bus was bowling along through the green park now. There were glimpses of the lake through the trees and to the west you could see the roof of the refectory. Susan decided to alight. As she proceeded down the aisle, swaying and clutching at the backs of seats to steady herself, she heard her name called. "Hello. Miss Carey." The bus swayed to a stop and she turned around to catch the eye of Ben Lampman. "I'm getting off here,” she said wildly and unnecessarily, since her purpose was apparent. She flung herself down the stairs, the young man at her heels. “I didn’t mean—you needn't have bothered—l’m terribly sorry you—" He smiled at her. "I wasn't going any place in particular.

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Thought I might as well get off here. It's a swell day.” mm* SHE agreed, although the description seemed to her highly inadequate. "Where are you bound for?” Susan resigned herself to the inevitable. After all, she might as well be pleasant to this young man. Rose said he was lonely. He had no relatives In town and was "the queer, moody sort who doesn’t make friends easily.” "I was going to get some food and have a picnic by myself," she said. “Do you want to come along?” His lean, dark face lighted up. "That would be great," he said. "Look, there is the Casino, right over there. We can pick up some sandwiches. Gosh, I wish I’d known. I’d have brought my thermos.” "Well, we can get ginger ale," Susan said comfortingly. What a strange young man he was. For a moment or two he seemed inconsolable over the absence of his thermos, Susan repeated a little impatiently, “It doesn’t matter at all." "Heavens," she thought, "is he going to spoil my lovely day just when I was beginning to enjoy myself?” But the moment passed and soon they were laughing and talking like old friends. They sat on a little hillock near the lagoon. Ben spread out newspapers so that Susan's pink shantung frock should remain innocent of grass stain. Over the shared sandwiches and the ginger ale, they came to a friendlier understanding of each other. "Why, he's not half bad, really,” the girl thought in surprise. The boy said to himself, "Lord, but she’s prettier than I remembered and not as standoffiish.” Susan brushed the crumbs from her skirt and Ben made a parcel of the debris which he deposited in one of those huge baskets park officials have disposed on tree trunks for the benefit of tidy citizens. "Let's go for a row,” he proposed. "I didn’t know you could,” Susan said. "Sure. You get the boats over on that side,” he pointed. "I think that would be fun,” said Susan, "but we’ve got to watch the time. I must meet my aunt without fail.” mum IT was pleasant to drift along on the green water, to dabble your hands and sit back luxuriously as a young man rowed. Susan wondered If Cleopatra had felt like this as she floated down the Nile. She smiled at the ridiculous thought and looked up to find Ben’s eyes fixed upon her. "This is nice,” she said confusedly. He nodded. He had taken his coat off and for the first time she noticed how broad his shoulders were under the thin white shirt. A farm boy—wasn’t that what Rose had said? Well, he didn't look much like a farm now. He looked more like a young poet or the musician he really was. Mr. Heath wouldn’t approve of Ben, the girl decided. She flushed, wondering why it mattered. Mr. Heath would have thought Ben

rangy and rather unkempt, although his linen was spotless and his shabby suit well brushed. All the young men who came to see Mr. Heath were clipped, assured, and perfectly turned out. Most of them had been to Harvard or Yale or Princeton. They knew the right people and belonged to the right clubs. Ben never would do either of those things. They rounded the little turn ind started to go back toward the landing. Susan, noticing with alarm the lengthening shadows, asked Ben the time. “Don’t you worry. I'll get you back with minutes to spare," he assured her. They were in the shadow of a willow now-. The light was curious and unreal and for no good reason Susan's heart began to pound. Perhaps it was something in the way the young man looked at her as he rested on his oars. “I want to talk to you,” he began. “I want to ask you something.” She managed a smile. "All right, go ahead.” u m m HE stumbled over the words, but they sounded astonishingly clear. "I want to —I want to ask you to marry me.”

7TSQOK A DAY BY BRUCE GMTON

THE man who sells his soul never thinks that it’s for keeps. He always figures that, sooner or later, when he has made his pile, he’ll be able to get his soul back again, wipe the mud off of it and live the kind of life that his self-respect requires. The only trouble is that it never works out that way. The

dirty business never comes; or, if it does, he finds that it has come too late and that his soul is soiled past cleansing. In "The Great Day,” Georgette Carneal has written a thick, somewhat monotonous novel

1

Miss Carneal

dealing with just that point. Her characters are mostly men and women who work for a conscienceless New York publisher—a man who prints the most pornographic of tabloids, the most sexy of magazines, the most suggestive of “true confession’’ yarns. Asa commentary on the prices which people pay for success in the metropolis her book is savage and ruthless. Considered strictly as a novel, it is not quite as successful as it might have been. It is overlong, the moral is stressed too heavily, and there is a rather unbelievable venture in sex, toward the end, that may distress the sensitive. “The Great Day” is published by Liveright, and costs $2.50.

STKKEP.S 1 Y.. 1 Here are two solid blocks of wood, se- | curely dove-failed together. On the oth- , er two vertical sides, that are not visible, i the appearance is precisely the same as f on the sides shown. How are the piece* ; * pul together? ($ *•' - . Is Yesterday's Answer f] The round trip ticket would cost $25.76. The fact that the purchaser got off half way hack home does not change the price of the ticket which already was purchased. <

TARZAN THE TERRIBLE

As Mo-sar carried Jane from the Forbidden Garden, she struggled furiously, until he was forced to bind and gag her in self defense. When he came to where his men had gathered, Mo-sar was glad to turn her over to a couple of stalwart warriors. Sure that the vengeance of the slain king s retainers would soon search him out, Mo-sar now hurried down out of the hills from which A-lur was carved. Luckily for him. tie succeeded in safely reaching the •lake called Jad-ben-lul.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

Susan gasped. She felt as if a thunderbolt had Allen. What could she say? She could think of nothing She looked "at him and looked away again, unable to hear the terrible earnestness of his gaze. She gasped. "But I hardly know you—l never even dreamed —” Gloomily the young man said. “That's just it. I knew you would say that. Don’t you believe in love at first sight?” Susan stared. "Yes. I guess so. But what has that to do—” Oh, dear, she had hurt his feel-

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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ing again. The slow color suffused his cheek and stained his neck. Susan hastened to make amends. "I am sorry. But honestly. I hadn’t the least idea” His eyes burned into hers. “I knew the first time I saw you that you were the girl for me. Sorta fine—l thought—d’you know what I mean —I thought you were incorruptible. I liked that.” She was proud. She might have no least feeling for this boy, but the word, the implied compliment, touched her deeply. Shyly she said, "Thank you for saying that.”

Here, on the big lake's edge were his fleet of strong canoes, hollowed from tree trunks. Into the stern of one the warriors cast their captive at a sign from their chief. “Beautiful One.” he said, “let us be friends and you shall not be harmed. You will And Mo-sar a kind master if you do his bidding.” Thinking to make a good impression on her, he removed the gag firm her mouth and the thongs from her wrists, knowing well she could not escape.

He gripped the oars again, leaning forward in his eagerness. "Don’t answer me now. You can’t decide that kind of thing all of a sudden. Take your time. I’m not a bad sort. I—l'd be good to you. I don’t think your aunt would mind—” Mystified, Susan asked what made him think that. "Oh. that night I had a little talk with her she seemed to think you were—well—too pretty to work downtown among all those millionaires and so on. She seemed to think it would be better if you were settled down.”

—By Ahern

Under the splashing of a hundred paddles the fleet moved off. All day they glided through the windings of rivers ana across the lakes into the valley of Jad-ben-Otho. In the last canoe Mo-sar, tiring of his fruitless efforts to win response from his sullen captive, squatted in the bottom of the canoe with his back toward her wid sought sleep. Thus they moved in silencA through the verdure clad banks of a little Aef.

"I never heard of such a thing,” murmured Susan, scandalized. Ben nodded heavily. "That’s what she said, ’ he corroborated. They drifted back to the landing almost in silence. The sun was slipping downward now. The park had lost its pristine look of glory and had become just a city playground with a litter of paper on its surface. Ben handed her out of the boat with chivalrous care. "Don’t answer me now,” he admonished. "I know you're young

OUT OUR WAY

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and all that But don't answer me now. Think it over.” v (To Be Continued 1 FREE BUS SPONSORED West Washing-ton Street Business Men Offer Shopping Aid. West Washington street business men are sponsoring operation of free bus service each Saturday for twelve hours, beginning at 9 in the morning. A bus bearing the names of the stores sponsoring the service will make trips from Monument circle to West Washington street.

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

At last the canoe fleet came out upon another sheet of water whose black shores seemed far away under the weird influence of & moonlit night. Through it all. the captive white woman sat alert in the stem of the canoe bearing her to an unknown destination. For months she had been the prisoner of first one ruthless creature and then another. How she had survival unharmed, she believed only bjr the grace of a kind and watchful Providence.

PAGE 13

—By William?

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By, Martin