Indianapolis Times, Volume 44, Number 97, Indianapolis, Marion County, 1 September 1932 — Page 7

SEPT. 1, 1032.

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RFCiIN HIRE TODAY MONA TOWNRENI) beautiful voting t idow. inhartt* har huabarid > million* with th*! provision that *he muat not raw'd. Hrr marriaga, arrangad hv har huahand * lawyer, who *• Mona • amplover. wa* a Htranga affair, leaving har lira at tha and of a vear to become her husband * wife in actuality or nature a cm orce. Mon*. In lo\a with Townaenda hcrhaw. Barry Townsend, agreed to the marriage whan *he thought Barry ** lost to her. She employ* DOTTIK CARR, a fashion model, rs her wrre'arv-companion and they set out for South America, wh're Bvrrv and STEVE SACCARELI.I ar* partners in a diamond mine Monas brother. BUD. works at the mine. Mona hope- for a reronrtliation with H’rr she also feela Barry t entitled to a share of hi* unc!** fortune and wantr to And a way to arrange this legal - l.eanXig that Barrv and S’eve are on varsHnn at Holiday laland. the girla ' lea-a their boat at Port of Spain. There. 0 die bv accident. they meet Bud NOW fiO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT BUD rose nnri walked toward thp patty, his hand extended "Why. Mona! What are you doing here?” His sojourn in the tropics had Improved Bud. His carriage was straightcr. The furtive look had disappeared from his eyes. “We were looking for you—” Mona told him. She flung her arms about her brother and Bud blushed beneath his tan. “I'm a pilot now,” he explained "Up here to handle some business for the mine. Then I've got to streak lor Holiday." , “Can you take a couple of passengers?” Lottie erted. “Os course. Did you get my wirp?” They sat down at a table and Bud signaled to a waiter. Mona askpd. “Where Is Holiday? Lottie and I have been at the binocular half the way down.” “Oh, it's up north a bit. Sixteen hours by boat when you can get one. One hour by plane" “And you'll take us with you?” “Sure thing.” Bud grinned boyishly. “But we can’t take off until tomorrow. I have some business on hand." The girls were content to remain, now that the end of their search was in sight. Taking leave of Bud, who had promised to telephone later, Mona and Lotte registered at the hotel, prepared for luncheon find presently joined Dr. Allen on r sight-seeing trip. Bud telephoned in the evening while they were at dniner. They were to be ready at 10 o'clock next morning, when he would call for them. He was remaining for the night in San Farnando. The Miranda sailed at 9 and the two girls drove with the doctor to the jetty. As they waited for the tender he said softly to Lottie, “Is the jury's verdict in yet?” “I’m afraid so.” She hesitated. "You know how I feel. But there .are loads of girls ” “There are,” he said ruefully, "But only one like you!” Maybe that's plenty,” Lottie said cheerfully. “If I can ever do anything for you—” he began. “I’ll let you know. That's a promise." Neither of them realized just how soon that promise would be kept. a a a BUD called next morning while the girls were seated at a little table in their room having a breakfast of coffee, toast and fruit. There would be a delay. Bud said. He could not get back to Port of Spain until 4 in the afternoon at the earliest. They would not, in any ca.se, leave for Holiday island until 'the following day. “Let's go to an Indian temple or the pitch lake,” suggested Mona. But Lottie had varying ideas. The pitch lake was too far. The temple did not appeal. “Did you notice the gentleman so closely resembling Clark Gable who sat in the lobby at' tea? No? Then you certainly are in love with Barry!” It appeared that not only had Lottie noticed the young man, but he. in turn, had observed Lottie. He had appealed to the manager for an introduction and the introduction had been managed when Lottie left Mona for a trip to the hair dresser. Mr. Grayson was an American in Port of Spain on business. He had suggested an outing for today. Ringing a bell, Lottie dispatched a note by the boy who responded. The answer came promptly. Mr. Grayson was delighted and would meet them in the lobby at their convenience. "You go,” Mona said. “I'm tired and I want to think.” Left alone, the prospect of think-

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ing seemed less intriguing. Mona determined to set out in a cab for San Fernando to And Bud. Although she would not admit it even to herself she was anxious about her brother. What was this “business” he referred to vaguely? Barry and Steve trusted him. certainly, or they would not have sent him on a mission. He had learned to fly. He looked well, surely. • a a ORDERING a car. she prepared for the drive. She chose a gown of white linen with short sleeves, a white panama hat, square white purse and white shoes. The waiter brought her a basket as she rose from her seat on the terrace after the bpllbov had announced the arrival of her car. "Luncheon. Madame,” the waiter said. “There may be few hostelries where one would care to rest.” “You will provide for the chauffeur?” That apparently already had been done. There was a smaller package for thp chauffeur. “Is the road to San Fernando quite safe?” Mona asked the young man at the wheel of the motor car.

THEY O TILL ME'jg-U'

‘Aiken’ Pains WELL, well, well! So, in addition to the handicaps of a Watson and a Springer on the ticket, the Hoosier Republicans will have to carry the added load of .John H. Aiken of Ft. Wayne, lobbyist in chief of the Hoosier Taxpayers’ Union. Inc. With loud hosannahs, the Republicans announce that Aiken will become active in’ behalf of Raymond S. Springer, their Governor nominee—which to the initiate indicates ; that horse is going to be handicapped with extra weight in the j race. G. O. P. publicity experts an- ! nounce to the palpitating Hoosier | voters that Aiken, Once “prominent in Democratic politics, is angry be- ! cause the Democratic house at- ! tempted to pass a bill repealing the $1.50 maximum tax law, so he | changes to the opposition party. If what tax experts tell me is so, ! the sorriest bill passed in the special session was this maximum tax rate measure. The Republican senate passed it, hoping that, the Democratic house j would kill it. The Democratic house passed it, hoping that the Republican Gover- ! nor would veto it, and the Republican Governor passed the buck to ! thp people—they always lose in the | end. a a a In desperation, leaders of the i Democratic house, seeing (hat the Republican senate would make no effort to pass an income tax bill and so provide the necessary funds to make the $1.50 bill truly operative, attempted to nullify the measure. But Republican representatives, believing that they had the Demi ocrats in a hole, voted almost to ja. man to kill Hie repealer. Politics put over a tax bill that is unj workable. But what did Aiken care—he j promised the Hoosier Taxpayers' I Union he would get the bill through i and. with the nelp of Senator Lee | J. Hartzell, Republican floor leader, I it was done. Aiken's Democracy is a peculiar thing. Years ago when the ol‘ rioc- | tor was a toddler, Aiken was elected . superior judge in Allen county by the Democrats. a tt a In 1917 he joined with a committee or thirty to elect a Republican and defeat a Democratic | candidate for mayor of Ft. Wayne. In the years between he joined the great hprd of mugwumps, j In 1930, exercising the privilege of every American citizen, he supported a Republican nominee for circuit judgp. Asa further proof of his Democratic leanings, it is a matter of | record that in the 1931 session, | Hartzell, Republican leader, urged i the senate to hire Aiken as an ex- | pert tax adviser, at a salary of i $2,500. but the senate voted the ( project down.

He smiled. His face, carved from coffee-colored marble, was handsome. His hands rested on the wheel with competent assurance. “Safe? Ah, perfectly.” The car shot forward through Abercrcmby street along the railroad tracks and out toward Tuna Puna. It glided smoothly past the end of the t-own and beyond the reservoir j into little clusters of coolie villages. Priests with painted foreheads glanced up casually. Tourist* were plentiful. Busses —the usual transportation service hetwpen Port of Spain. Tuna Puna and San Fernandopassed, filled with Hindoo women wearing pastel-tinted, floating veils. The car passed grohps of children. Thpre wpre brown, roundbodied little girls with wondering eyes and straight hair, clad in the briefest of garments and often wearing silver bracelts on each chubby wrist. The boys wore tom shirts and trousers. The formality of their , costumes, the chauffeur explained, was due to the fact that they at- ' tended school. ' Education was not compulsory

So much for his Democracy. As an ardent advocate of governmental economy, state tax board members recall that Aiken fought to obtain its sanction of a $250,000 bond issue to construct a county unit road, one of the major reasons why Indiana can't get from under the tax load. When the tax board refused. Aiken filed suit to force it to do so. The issue finally was scaled to $185,000. So much for his economy advocacys.

7TSGOK ~A~DfIT BY BRUCt CATTON

WHEN an ambitious young man tries for years to write a novel, and discovers at last that he'll never make the grade, he is apt to fly off the handle in a big way. In “Red Herring,” by Edward Acheson, this is just what happens. The would-be novelist is a newspaper reporter. He spends all his spare time trying to write a story about a man who committed a “perfect crimp,” and he studies his subject, with the aid of a friendly police detective, until he knows all about how crime should be committed. But he can’t make the story jell; and at last, brooding deeply, he hits on the idea of committing the perfect crime himself. That way, he won't have to waste all the research he has performed. So he goes to it, robs the local bank and gets away with something like SBO,OOO. Elis crime is just as close to perfection as he had figured it would be. No one dreams of suspecting him, and everything is lovely except that— Well, it hardly would be fair to. tell you the conclusion. The book is a kind of mystery story, and under English common law a reviewer is supposed to keep mystery story climaxes to himself. I only can say that the conclusion is neat and logical, and that the book as a whole is entertaining —even though the author, himself a newspaper man, doesn't quite make his newspaper scenes convincing. “Red Herring” is published by Morrow, and sells for $2.

JTlCKtftj A man bought a house for $4400 and spent twice as much to repair it as he did lo paint it. Then he sold it for S6OOO and profited 20 per rent on his whole investment. W hat did the repairing cost and what did the painting rest?

Yesterday's Answers

. M W If 1 05 hekrt* were sold and Jim sold twice as many as John, and Jane half again as many as Jim and John together. John sold 14, |im 28 and lane 63.

TARZAN AND THE ANT MEN

' ' .!■' B|^J . 'Hfjr

Kalfastoban released the girl and reached for his sword. Zuanthrol, The Giant, who held him, was saying. "Your brutality to this girl deserves but one punishment—death!’’ ‘'Caraftap!’* screamed Kalfastoban, no longer bull voiced and swaggering. "Caraftap! HELP!'’

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

here and only the boys availed themselves of the privilege. An hour of this and the car had reached the outlands. Palms and thickly interlaced jungles sorted the highway. Here and there they crossed a tiny bridge, beside which rose a stile to be used by foot passengers when the water was high. Han A ND then they reached San -*■*- Fernando, reeking with oil. Its oily streets, lined with tiny houses from which dark faces peered, glistened in the sun. ' Stop here.” ordered Mona, indicating a crossroad. How foolish she had been to make the trip! This was San Fernando, but if Bud had been there, or even

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

( WOTS TU' ) \j FftVSOMEft \ Nou BEAST’.

SALESMAN SAM

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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

"Caraftap is dead.’’ said Tarzan. "Run him through, Komodoflorensal!” As the body slid to ihe cell's floor, Talaskar ran forward and fell at the ape-man's feet. “Zuanthrql—and Aoponato!” she ci*ed. "Go quickly: do not let them find vou here. I can not understand WHY you came.”

were there now, she hardly could discover him. “Will you have tea. Madame?” the chauffeur asked. They had stopped by the roadside some hours back to each lunch. “Where?” Mona asked doubtfully. “At the Paradise hotef. A lovely spot, Madame. A romantic spot.” She agreed and they drove around a curve of thick bushes dotted with orchids. The Paradise hotel rase before them, a green and white fairy cottage on the side of a precipitous rise. White steps rose from the road to the door. “Delightful!” burst from Mona’s lips. She went up the steps, breathing in the scented air. Poinsettia. bugin villaes and honeysuckle

crowded each other. Hibiscus dotted the smooth green beyond the railing. The Paradise hotel tearoom apparently was empty, but as Mona entered an old man, a native wearing a carefully cut suit of lightcolored material, approached her. bowing. He was, doubtless, the maitre d'hotel. “Tea, Madame?” he queried. He waved her toward a seat on the veranda, but not before Mona had seen within. She was not the only patron. At a far table -sat a man. dark and cautious looking, who wore a white linent suit. He was conversing in low tones with a compaion. A scattering of bright stones lay before them. As the man saw Mona

—By Ahern

"We are trying to escape.” explained Komodoflorensal, "and Zuanthrol would not go without you.” “Why did you do this for me?” asked the girl, looking wondennjly at Tarzan. "Because you were kind to me when I was brought to the chamber of. Zoanthrohago 5 slaves,” replied the ape-man.

approach, he covered them with a deft motion of his napkin. “Ah!” he pronounced wamlngly. The other man lifted a dark head, rose and wheeled. “Mona,” he cried, amazed. It was Bud. ' (To Be Continued) WELCHES ON RACE WINNING: ENDS LIFE Gambler Who Guessed Wrong Chooses Death to Disgrace. fij/ Time* Sprrinl CHICAGO. Sept. L—H. P. Smith had remained true to his code through years of gambling and stock

OUT OUR WAY

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speculation—always pay ysur losses. But the day came when h* could not. so he is dead, a self-inflicted bullet wound in his head. Smith, who recently has been handling herse race bets on commission, received $2,000 from a copper mine owner in the southwest to bet on a “long shot.” He decided that the horse had no chance, so he did not place the wager. intending to put the money in his pocket. The horse won. Smith, owing thousands of dollars to the bettor, could not pay, despite frantic efforts to borrow the sum. So, Monday night, he locked himself in his hotel room and ended his life.

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Komodoflorensal stood a little aside, his eyes downcast. “Komodoflorencal, ‘ said Tarzan, ' there is an opening in the ceiling. Where think you it leads?" "Anywhere*—or nowhrr?." answered the prince. “I cere not, now—” Suddenly they heard a terrific pounding upon one of the doors.

PAGE 7

—By Williams

—By Bloss< r

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin