Indianapolis Times, Volume 44, Number 95, Indianapolis, Marion County, 30 August 1932 — Page 11

AUG. 30, 1932

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BEGIN HFKf TOD A V MONA TOWNSEND. Hurried •!* menth* nrt widowed, inherit* her hh*nd million* providing he doe* not T*w*d Her marring*, arrang'd by Toanvand * )wv*r who w* Mona * *mtloyer. n a rtrang* affair, laavlng her free at th* and of a v**r to become her rniahand* ■ If* In actuality or aecure a divorce , Mona In lov* with hr huaband ■ r*pf,e*. BARftY TOWNSEND, agreed to the marriage when she thought Barry tea* lost to her. Bairv , in South America, where he and STEVE SAOCARELLI ate partner* In a diamond mine Monas brother, HUD. work* for them. LOTTIE CARR, Jfl‘h!on model, is Mona’* eloveat friend Mona feels Barry 1* entitled to a har of his uncle i fortune, but there is no legal •> for her to arrange, this. She employs Lottie a* her *ecretry and companion They sail for South America, Mona hopes for a reconciliation with Barry and also to find a wav to *'.ve him a ahsre of the Townsend fortune Learning that Barrv and Rt*ve are on a vacation at Holiday island, thav decide to leave toe boat at Port o’ Spain. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX "a RE you going to marry me or /A arm t you?" asked young Dr. Ailen beseechingly. "The jury is still nut,” Lottie answered, They were standing at the Tail in Bridgetown Harbor, looking across the stretch of water to the shore. The deck was deserted. Mona had pone 1,0 the Aquatic Club with an attractive passenger who had come Bboard at Martinique. "Going to the dance tonight?” pursued the doctor. Lottie shrugged. The Miranda was to remain until midnight, so that passengers and crew could attend the weekly hop at the Beach Club. "Perhaps.” Her eyes ignored the earnest young man at her elbow and sought little bobbing speeks on the water which were growing larger. "Diving boys!” she exclaimed. Though the Miranda had been met in the same way in every port, Lottie never tired of watching them. "There are girls, too,” said Dr. Allen. "Girls? It’s the first port where I've seen women diving!” There were girls in the boats, sure enough. "Maybe they won’t dive,” suggested the doctor. "Maybe the lads just brought them along for scenery.” The girls at the moment were not diving. There were three of them, clad in bathing suits of scarlet, lavender, and green. Eaeh was seated in a small boat with her own flock of hoy divers, "Do you dive?” called Lottie, holding forth an American quarter. The girl in blue looked up and folded her arms. "Sure,” she said scornfully, with out moving. "Two shilling, mistress! Two shilling!” one of her escorts explained. a a a THe doctor produced two shillings and flung them toward the pul, who arose and dived gracefully from the boat. She emerged in a moment holding the money aloft and striking out for her boat with swift, clean-cut strokes. "She doesn't swim as well as the boys,” remarked the doctor. "Want your money hark?" Loitie's voice was ingenuously curiousi "Look who's here!” She pointed toward the shore where a tiny boat, urged forth by small shingles held in the hands of its occupant, was leaving the quay. The tiny figure in the perilous bark was another girl, her head flaunting a magnificent bandanna of black and white. The girl was driving her boat rapidly toward the, Miranda. She was a novice at handling the bark apparently, but there could be no doubt about her eagerness to reach the steamer. Presently an agitated parade reached the jetty, headed by a tiny half-naked, black boy. They selected a boatsman. jumped in the boat he proffered and were after the girl. She turned her head, spied them and redoubled her efforts, splashing through the water frantically. As she reached the flotilla of native boats, it was clear that she was an alien. The natives refused to make way for her and, tossing aside her paddle, the girl rose, poised and cleft the water sharply. Abruptly she came to the surface again and swam toward the companion ladder. She extended a hand, caught the chain and pulled herself aboard,

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pushing aside the perplexed quartermaster and running up the ladder, "Hey, come back! No girls allowed aboard!” he expostulated. The girl paused to thrust a tongue at him and waved a browned arm toward Lottie. Just as she gained the deck, the pursuers reached earshot and the girl ducked through the smoking room, disappearing down the stairs. "More power to her!” laughed Lottie. "I wonder what's happened? ! Look—the old lady looks wild!” a a a r T''HE boat had reached the ship now and the old lady in it did indeed "look wild.” Probably she was not very old. She wore the native costume of Martinque and announced that she was nurse for Mademoiselle, who had stolen a boat, from a native boy and climbed aboard the boat "What's this, what's this?” asked the captain, appearing from the crew’s quarters suddenly. "Why Maria, what's up!” Maria, her gold earrings jangling,

THEYTELL ME 'Aj

“The Biter Bit” ENTERS upon the scene again one John A. Jones, tie-less political boss of Grant county, who, they tell me, is expected to act the leading role in a little drama called "The Biter Bit.” The years seem to pass lightly over Jones, still tie-less, still bitter in his enmities, and still ensconced behind the postmaster's desk in the Marion postofflee. Jones feels that, he is postmaster for the third time in spite of Senator James E. Watson, who, he thinks, tried to “double” him out of the job. So it begins to appear that the sunny, smiling senior senator may be treated to a little of his own medicine, with the veteran postmaster playing the role of the prescribing physician. Jones, when he made his first bid for the postmastership, was unable to pass the examination, so a friend, W. D. Moss, got the appointment. Moss, a few months later, resigned and foxy Jones was appointed. In spite of the bitter fight waged against him by his enemies and the Lindsay papers, the veteran political boss was reappointed for a second term. a a a But when the matter of a third term came up, Jones found himself on the "out” list. Every one was fighting him, including his made to order sheriff, Jake Campbell, of lynching notoriety, who wanted the job for himself. Finding himself in a tight spot over the appointment, Watson, as usual, took the straddling position, and, with unuttered hopes for the speedy demise of one tie-less John, announced that the new appointment would be made only upon the recommendation of the county chairman, to be elected by the organization meeting in May. Although Jones had been a faithful henchman, it is rumored that Jim would like to be rid of him, because the Grant county boss enjoys the same unenviable political reputation as does George V. Coffin here. It would have been .easy to reappoint the wily Jones, but here was a chance to dump him. it u it Watson, however, r eekoned without the battle-scarred veteran of similar political frays. Out went an S. O. S. to his faithful adherents and Alf Hogston, state fire marshal, responded. Bert Fowler, Asa Elliott, and Charles Spires, Negro, all deputy fire marshals, found themselves assigned to work in Grant county. They, as well as others, performed mightly, for when the committee reorganized, Jones' choice, Fred Ratliff, county school superintendent, was elected county chairman by a 34-30 vote of the precinct committeemen. Ratliff, of course, recommended Jones and perforce Watson had to come through.

was hastily climbing the companion ladder. Her long skirt was carefully, held so that her beautifully trimmed underskirt would show. "Mademoiselle. she come aboard!” the wodan explained angrily. "She runaway. I could not stop her!” "Is Celeste aboard?” The Captain broke into hearty laughter. “Her father and mother are aboard, you know. They are going to Demerara. What's wrong with that?" It appeared there was a great deal wrong with it. Mademoiselle had left her home in Martinique for the purpose of spending a few months in Barbados to learn English. "And to forget the American, Monsieur. You recall the American?” Captain Lang recalled him, apparently, for he nodded. Mademoiselle had hoodwinked the household. They had Jiidden her clothes that she might not board the boat, so here she was in her bathing suit. The native boy had been rudely shoved out of his little shell and he had not liked that. Lottie watched the boy guide his

But Jones, being of an unforgiving temperament, can't forget that Watson tried to dump him. And he also believes that Watson, by refusing to act on the strong showing by his friends and numerous petitions presented before the reorganization, tried to double-cross him. Realizing that he is serving his last term now and has nothing more to fear from the senior senator, Jones proposes to retaliate, if not by tossing obstacles in Watson's path, at least to do nothing to aid him. Watson tried to bite Jones—now the one to be bitten is going to reverse the program.

TSTTinDg A DAY" 8Y BRUC6 CATTON

TT seems that the world is getting better. New York a century ago was a more wicked town than it is now. Its dives were more numerous and more unclean; the public had more hypocrisy confusion in its attitude toward them than it has now. This, anyhow, is what, I gather from reading "A New York Tempest.” by Manuel Komroff. This is a bulky story about a New York murder trial in the 1830’s. A young man from the upper middle class gets entangled with a girl of the streets, and winds up by strangling her to death. Arrested and brought to trial, he finds himself the center of a citywide sensation. The "better element” of the town is all on his side; the roughnecks, the Five Points drifters and the Bowery toughs are all hot for a conviction. Everybody in town takes sides, and the whole business almost ends in a bloody riot. Evidently New York took its murder trials seriously in those days. Anyway, the young man gets acquitted, by dint of a bit of perjury on the part of his star witness. But it does him little good. He'slides on downhill and, at last, kills himself to escape from his conscience. And I wouldn’t be surprised if there were a fine moral lesson, or something, in it. The story is chiefly interesting for its picture of old-time New York. Komroff seems to have lost the touch that put “Coronet” over; this bbok seems over-long and sententious, and often it is rather boresome. It is published by Coward-Mc-Cann. Inc., and sells for $2.50.

iTICKEPO EE U U , See how quickly von can switch ihe above vowels around and then add one connnant that will form a five-letter word. or

Yesterday's Answers

A four and one-quarter pound roast, j P* P would cost $1.19 and wh fn lh fhrmk (o one-half pounds m roasting, the cost per poundofthemeat eaten would he $ IJ? dinded by three and one-half-*, 34 Cttlti

TARZAN AND THE ANT MEN

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A* Komodoflorensal peered through the grating, he knew that never before had he realized how truly lovely was the little slave girl. “She belonged to the walmak” whispered Kalfastoban to his fat friend, “but I doubt if he ever aaw her or he would not have parted with her.” y

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

boat back to shore, richer by several shillings donated by the sympathetic Maria. "I wonder what will happen to the girl?" she asked the doctor amusedly. "I think I’ll go find her.” ‘‘See you at tea?” asked Dr. Alien as she moved away from the rail. "Very likely.” As she swung the cabin door open Lottie suddenly caught her breath. Celeste, still in her wet bathing suit was curled up in Lottie's rattan chair. "You will not betray me?” she asked pleadingly. "You'll take a chill in that suit,” Lottie said, unheeding. "How did you get in here!” The girl pointed toward the window.

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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“You will take her for your own woman?” asked Hamadalban. “No,” replied the Vental, “I shall keep her awhile, then sell her at a pretty profit.” At this point two guards were announced, bringing a quarry slave bearing important tidings.

Lottie nodded. "And they told us no one could do that!” a a a THE interloper nodded. "No one could ordinarily I climbed the rail easily, but natives could not. The po-lice”—ishe pronounced the word quaintly—"would keep them off. Pronto!” "But you cant stay here, you know.” Lottie said uneasily An idea occurred to her. "Here, you’ll take a chill.” Lottie had heard of tropic chills. She pointed to the bathroom. , "Go in there and strip that off. I’ll lend you some clothing.” •Mademoiselle ees ver-r-y kind!” Celeste returned, shyness coming suddenly upon her. She rose and walked gracefully to the bath.

Through the half-shut door she began an explanation. "My fam-ee-ly," she told Lottie, “they breeng me from France tc Martinque—” The girl stepped back in the cabin clad in Lottie's underthings. Lottie. motioning toward a comb and brush, rummaged in a suitcase for a frock. "Has Mademoiselle ever been in love?” the girl repeated. "It ees—-ter-r-ifle! I have been in love twice. Once in Par-r-is. Thees time, with an American.” For all her amusement Lottie was touched. "Does he love you? Americans have a way of getting what they wish, you know. He may find a way to override your other's objections.” Delight shone in the eager little

—By Ahern

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Caraftap, under guard, entered. “Ah!” What brings you here?” exclaimed Kalfastoban. ‘lnformation of great value,” answere Caraftap “Reward me with the white tunic. I beg. so that hereafter I may be free.” “You are free,” said Kalfastoban. “Now speak.”

face before Lottie. The girl tossed aside her comb and moved toward her hostess. "You th-eenk he w-eel-11?” Neither noticed that Mona, having returned from the Aquatic Club, stood in the doorway. "I am sure of it. Celeste,” said Lottie softly. Celeste apparently did not hear. Her eyes were fixed on something just over Lottie's shoulder. "Why. what is that picture doing here?” she asked. She rushed toward Mona's wardrobe trunk, on top of which a leather folder stood containing two portraits. One was of a blond young man. A darker man, older, looked gravely out of the other frame. But Celeste was not looking at the

OUT OUR WAY

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—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

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Whereupon Caraftap disclosed how he had Tarzan and Komodoflorensal alive, dressed at warriors. Kalfastoban sprang up and gave orders that all the adjoining rooms be searched. The guards departed, leaving Caraftap behind to aid in the search there.

PAGE 11

darker man. The blond youth absorbed her attention. "You have h-eem here! You know he-eem!” Celeste covered the portrait with kisses, crooning softly. "Who is this girl!” asked Mona, her face very pale. Celeste, unmindful, clasped the portrait to her heart. "My Barry! My Barry!" (To Be Continued! London's oldest bank is the Hoare's, the age of which can not be certainly stated; but there ls in existence a receipt dated in 1633 for monev deposited there In that year by Lawrence Hoare, who was in business as a goldsmith.

—By Williams

—By Blossor

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin