Indianapolis Times, Volume 44, Number 53, Indianapolis, Marion County, 12 July 1932 — Page 13

JULY 12, 1932.

LEAP YEAR BRIDE te- &

. BEGIN HERE TODAY CHERRY DIXON. orettv 19-V'Sr-old • S-.VL, tfr of *ithv narent*. marries T £>, PHTLMPS. newxnaoer reoorter. altar a guarrel with her narent* It la Dean Year marriage and Cherry doea Bia nronoslne She and Dan move Into a cheao apart•nrnt and Cherrv'a drat atjrugglea with Pouaeworlt ar> dlrrou ranine DIXIE SHANNON, movie critic of the News. 1* friendly. _ Cherrv meets handsome MAX PEARRON ala o 0 ( the News who trie* to make love to her Afler several weeks, fherrv a mother become* aerlouslv Ili. 'he girl goes home and there la a tdeonrlliatlon with her parents Pride will not allow: her to accept “nancul eld from them however MR. and MRS DIXON depart seeking another dim*'* to improve the mother a her it h i BRENDA VAII. maettrlne writer. coms Sf> Wellington ar.d Dan meets her She ak* him to collaborate in writing a Dlav. Den begins (o spend most of his evenings at Miss Vail's apartment. Dixie tries to warn Cherrv that there Is gossip about Dan and Brenda but Cherrv will not lister, On an evening when Cherrv is tired and nervous, she and Dan ouarrel. He ■ oes to see Brenda who leads him to believe he is in love with him Da vs bass and the rift, between Dan and Cherrv widens. She asks him to meet, her Saturday boon, but Dan does not come. Max Pfarson happens along and takes Cherrv to lunrh. She sees Dan with Brenda. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY pHAPTER FORTY-ONE tContinucd.) Cherry promptly forgot about the fur coat. Two young men were crossing the street and for a moment she thought orie of them was Dan. He wasn't. Thn youth turned his head and she saw he was a stranger. * A glance at. her wrist told Cherry that it was still too early to expect her husband. Not yet 12:30. She took another turn to the end of the block and back again. The street was filling gradually with the noon day crowd. Business men hurrying from offices. Tall vi'ls. slim girls, fat girls. All of them appeared to be wearing new fall finery. On their way no doubt to meet "dates." Youths who presently would meet these girls or others like them joined the' procession. There were older women, errand boys, men with lares worn dull by years of routine. Yet all of these faces showed relief. The half-holiday had brought nn air of bustle and festivity to the street. Still Dan Phillips was nowhere in sight. a b u CHERRY searched eagerly from left to ight. The crowd swirled past and new faces came into view constantly. It was after 12:30. Cherry took her post directly beside the library entrance and decided to wait there. The alarming possibility tame to mind that in this crowd she might miss Dan. She never hadj failed to meet him before. Today of all days that would he a calamity! She stood on tiptoe peering over the crowd. Nobody seemed to notice her and she felt as though she wwrc at the center of a merry-go-round. The men and women hurrying past might have been carried by some mechanical force. Twelve thirty-five, 12:40, 1 o’clock. There were fewer pedestrians now. Cherry's eyes were dark with alarm. “I should have reminded him!” she told herself. "I should have telephoned.” Still she would not give up hope that Dan would come. It was twenty minutes after I—almost an hour past the time she and Dan were to meet. Cherry raised one hand and brushed the mist from her eyes. No use to wait longer. No use to hope against hope that the next moment would bring him. He wasn’t coming. He had forgotten about her! Suddenly Cherry felt a hand on her arm. She whirled, her face lighting with happiness. “Oh !” she exclaimed and her lips moved to form Dan's name. But it wasn’t Dan Phillips who smiled down at her. Max Pearson stood there. He said easily. "Hall, Stranger. Where’ve you been keeping yourself?” Cherry's reply was a confused murmur. She heard Pearson speak again, without knowing what the words were. She heard him say something about lunch and was surprised to find herself walking down the street beside him, entering the dining room of the Hotel Wellington. They sat at a small table. Cherry turned her head and suddenly her eyes focused on a figure across the room. For a moment the figure blurred and the room swam before her. Then the outlines steadied themselves. It was—oh, it WAS!

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Dan was sitting at a table not a dozen yards away, leaning forward in earnest conversation, and the woman facing him was Brenda Vail. CHAPTER FORTY-TWO FOR an Instant Cherry thought the words would not come. Her hands, twisting together and hidden by the table, were like ice. She felt as though some terrible, chilling force had taken possession of her. She could not speak. She could not move, but sat there staring down at her plate. Over and over in her brain the words pounded. ' "Dan—and that woman! Here! Dan—and Brenda Vail!” It was only a moment, but for Cherry that moment was a lifetime. She raised her eyes then and somehow' found her voice. She said limply, "I'm afraid I ran’t stay for lunch, Max. A sudden headache—l get them sometimes. If you'll call a cab for me—” Pearson was all solicitude. If he had noticed the couple so near to them he gave no sign. He said a few words to the waiter, helped Cherry into her coat and then they were outside on the street. A taxicab drew to the curb in answer to Pearson's signal. Ma,x would have entered and driven home with her, but Cherry shook her head. She .sank far bark against the cushioned seat as the cab pulled out into the street. Blessed relief to be alone! How the dreary afternoon passed she could not have told. She reached the apartment, climbed the stairs. Huddled in a little heap on the davenport she lay staring across the room. Cherry did not weep. She did not even try to think. The ache in her heart—the ache that tw'isted and flayed and tortured her—was like a physical pain. It was so new and so terrifying. The gray kitten climbed to the davenport, nestled beside Cherry and waited for caresses that did not come. Sunshine faded from the patches of sky outside the living room windowFootstcps sounded on the stairs and then died away- In the apartment overhead a radio orchestar played a'brassy "torch song.” The whole situation was apparent now to Cherry. Oh, yes! She had been blind not to see it before. Dan’s sudden coldness. His frequent absences. How could she have failed to understand what was happening? a an THE shadows in the room grew darker and outlines were lost in the gray light. Dan came at last. For an instant he stood silhoutted against the hall light. Then he touched the wall switch and the table lamp glowed warmly. Dan said, “Hello,” and dropped his topcoat into a chair. He went to the kitchen, filled a tumbler with water and drank it. Returning, he looked at the girl curiously. "What’s the matter?” he asked. “Don’t you feel well?” Cherry raised her eyes. "I'm all right.” Phillips seemed satisfied. He began to whistle softly, sank into his favorite chair and unfolded a newspaper. There was silence that was not broken until Cherry spoke. Her voice sounded flat and unnatural. She said, “Dan, I waited nearly an hour ” “Waited? It’s no later than the time I usually get here.” "I mean at noon. At the library. Don’t you remember we were to have lunch together?” The young man’s face was hidden by the newspaper. "Sorry,” he said. "I forgot. Couldn't have made it anyhow, because I was tied up on a story. They're short a couple men again at the office.” So he chase to lie about it! He thought he could deceive her with the usual excuses. Cherry sat up stiffly, her hands clasped, fingers pressing into the flesh. "I—l saw you, Dan!” she said. The newspaper dropped and Phillips regarded her curiously. "What are you talking about?” "I saw you—at the Wellington. You were having lunch there with Brenda Vail.” ‘‘Oh, you did!” Their eyes met like swords, pointed and flashing. Cherry could not endure it. She could not face the anger and hostility that burned in

Dan's gaze. He must hate her to look at her that way! I "All right,” Dan said evenly. “Suppose I was at the Wellington! Suppose I did lunch with Brenda. Is there anything criminal in that?” Cherry spoke as though she had not heard him. “All these nights,’ she said slowly, “when I thought you were at the office—special assignments—extra work—you were with her then, weren’t you? You've been seeing her for weeks. “Why didn't you tell me the truth? Why didn't you say you didn’t love me any more? Why aid you have co lie ” “Wait a minute!” Phillips interrupted. "You haven't any reason to complain and you can't say I lied. 1 did work on a story today until 1 o'clock. "If you wanted to know where Pve been spending my evenings, why didn't you ask? You haven't seemed much interested in anything I’ve done for a long while.” Tears filled the girls eyes. She tried to brush them away. “You — lied to me!” she went on, chokingly. “You lied today, and you’ve probably done it before. "It was our wedding anniversary—and I thought we were going to be so happy. I had everything You couldn’t even remember after you'd promised to meet me?” “And I tell you I didn’t lie! You haven’t made things any too agreeable around here lately. All your talk about not having any money and how hard you have to work! “That’s pleasant to listen to. isn’t it? Brenda understands ” BBC THE girl was on her feet, anger flaming in heer cheeks. “Don’t you dare talk to me about that woman! Don’t you dare! She’s a horrible, shameless old vampire! “Talking about the play you were going to write together when all she wanted was to have you making love to her. You know it’s true—don’t try to tell me it isn’t” “You can’t talk that way about Brenda!” ‘ Oh, can’t I? Your wife doesn’t make any difference, but this won-

TTKJOK A D fiT BY BRUCE CATTON

FROM the moment that Amelia Earhart landed in Ireland after her solo flight across the Atlantic, it was inevitable that she present would write a book. The book has now appeared. It is called "The Fun of It,” and the only surprising thing about it is that it is rather more interesting than you would expect. The book's subtitle is “Random records of my own flying and of women in aviation.” That describes the contents pretty accurately. Miss Earhart (or, if you prefer, Mrs. Putnam) begins by telling of her own girlhood in the middle west. She had an early ambition to be a doctor, studied science in school with that end in viewY and during the latter part of the war worked in a Toronto hospital for wounded soldiers. Then, when her family moved to California, she learned to fly, after which she went to Boston and engaged in settlement work. It was her first trans-Atlantic flight, in the Friendship, in 1928, tha‘t turned her from a settlement worker to a full-fledged aviator. That flight is described fully in her book, and there is a sketchy last chapter dealing with her recent solo ocean flight. There are. also, a few chapters devoted to the experiences of other women fliers. All in afi, the book is a pleasant, unpretentious affair that will fill an idle hour or so for you very agreeably. It is published by Brewer, Warren and Putnam, and cost $2.50.

mcKEfts

WLUNNAZIZm Th above may all be Greek to you—•nJ may even look like it —but if you turn some of the letters around, it u very simple to form a nine-letter word, f?

Yesterday’s Answer

FELT I FLIT H IT ITH E The dotted lines indicate where the *even. four, two and five lines were added to form two four-letter words and two three-letter words. ia

TARZAN AND THE ANT MEN

Outside the shelter of the Spaniard and the cannibal's daughter, the ramp fire lighted the jungle grasses about it, casting fantastic shadows that leaped and danced. Now something moved stealthily among the lush vegetation a few yards from the tiny camp. The taller grasses parted and a lion's head appeared. Its yellow-green eyes gazed uneasily at the fire. From beyond came the odor of man, and Numa was hungry. Often had he eaten man and found hinj good.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

derful Brenda—!” Cherry’s emotion was too much for her. Her words broke off and she turned away. Philjips said coldly, “If you're ready to listen, maybe you’ll let me get in a word or two. I suppose this jis all further proof that I'm the world's prize failure. You've said ; it a dozen times before, but when you try to drag Brenda Vail into it—!” Cherry whirled about. 'T told you not to mention that name!” she warned. “Can't you stop thinking of her even for a minute? Well, then—go to her! “I never want to see your face

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

r AH, AM EXCELLENT PLAM! \ BIGHT! AMP V NOkJ, NON, NON! LIKE BLAZES 1 Y SAY. /SfbUE CONVICTS SCRAMBLE ASHORE, LEAVINGS I PUT COKVICTS ASWORE, / OUST TO MAe | VOU CAN TRUST / VaHLL*. TAKE The ) PAF.O, VEC i_l TMF. SgWPETL TO URUMBLE AND CONTINUE

SALESMAN SAM

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

k ; —v E > i \yl 6000 °k- fety uvte s,oes> | vanx ~whv , vt<b —or

But Numa did not like the looks of things here. So he turned and disappeared from whence he had come. Numa was not afraid of the fire. It was the dancing, grotesque shadows that caused his apprehension. Uhha, lying wakeful inside the crude shelter, felt no fear of the dancing shadows and she had not seen the lion. She lay very still now, listening. 1>“ >e had burned to emb®”* while she made ■ > Hi ninff ill I INI

again. I wish I’d never married you! I wish—l wish I were dead!” Her voice fell on a broken sob. “So you wish you’d never manned me! Don’t forget it was your idea. I didn't ask you to marry me! Have you forgotten that?” Cherry cried out as though at a blow. “You—could say—that!” she gasped. “I suppose you never loved me at all? You made me believe you did. You made me think you wanted to marry me—oh, I wish you'd go away! I wish you'd leave me alone—!” She sank to the davenport and

buried her head in the cushions. Cherry was weeping uncontrolledly now. Her shoulders rose and sank with great shaking sobs. For a moment Phillips stood looking down at her. Then he crossed the room, picked up his coat and hat. An instant later the hall door opened and shut. nan /CHERRY did not know how long she lay there. She knew Dan had gone, but she did not stir. Gradually her sobbing became more quiet and the stopped altogether. She got to her feet, crossed the

—By Ahern

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When the Spaniard's breathing indicated he was fast asleep. Uhha cautiously brought forth a short, stout cudgel. Slowly she raised" her weapon and brought it down heavily, once upon Miranda's skull. She hoped she had not killed him for her revenge would come only when he regained his senses and found she had taken the bag of diamonds. Hastily she took --,h<- -Jeniff **• -*is hip,*, m

room and fumbled mechanically in a bureau drawer for a fresh handkerchief. Her eyes were swollen and red. Cherry caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and was shocked for an instant, because she did not recognize herself. Upstairs the radio was still turned on and a man was singing. A crooner whose weekly salary was fabulous. The song was a popular one and Cherry had heard it often before. The words were appropriate: "After I w*s jiold nn all the fair* Ton told Didn't vnu let Tour kisse* turn from hot to rold? Was that the human thint—“

OUT OUR WAY

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The song ended on a dissonant note. Perhaps the owner* of the radio disliked the ballad or perhaps he only was leaving the apartment to go to a belated dinner. At any rate, the radio was silenced. It was curious how that silence affected the working of Cherry's mind. She still was dazed by the unreality of what had happened Ddn had come and gone away She never was going to see him again. D*: was leaving her for Brenda Vail. (To Be Continued)

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Cutting the strings that held the buckskin bag, she slipped out into the jungle night, During all her forced wanderings with the Spaniard, Uhha had not once lost her sense of direction, pointing toward home. Now, free, she started resolutely southwest toward the village of Obebe, the cannibal. An elephant trail formed a, . jungle highway along which she| moved walk, her way lighted

PAGE 13

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin