Indianapolis Times, Volume 44, Number 217, Indianapolis, Marion County, 19 January 1933 — Page 15

JAY. 10, 1933

SPOTLIGHIQff

RM.IS HI 111. TOP AT rHKTTA SHAYNE If? ho-* Tsarnt* *• f *r;i-known vaudeville entertainer*. 1- a <lai,((■; After weeks out ot a job. • ..-rd to s ibis!,v. te Id DAISY <•: : .‘.SON another dancer, who has *t fa.i.rd i r r anSelr. W;,;> rehears;:.a a* JOE PARIS' none * e,... : DICK STANLEY and TiiKVOIi LANE, Lath rich. Dicic is 1 -acted bv Sheila end urges Lane to her in t:,r nrosram of en-t-ri •: n :r-' *: at a par tv h Is giving. K! ' a tie: .ines to come, but later acC> |) A u e nartv she meets CORDON MAN- ' JM.V.Ki ’■ 1! . ir.-cflucer. She sees 1> r: fre- -ej-ilv alter that- Daisv re. t • .to the si.-rw and Sheila again hunts b Kb. Then Mandrake offers her a part in r 1.1 i. i a JY,ie;.r a! begin at once. K! fa b’ciimc. fiiendlv with JIM KT.AINE. one of the principals in the t>! ■ Ti 'v bo to Atlantic Citv for the trvru, vr, v Thcr- prxsnaners uncover 1 < fact thet Jim i. the x>n of a v. v f: tn;!v and has cone on the • in ontioslMon to his father's wishes. c •Ks give Shel'.-I more praise than M - PH far. She,,a 1 t in t to hear M Randolph demanding that Sheila L now co'on wrrn the story CHAPTER FOURTEEN f (Continued) “QOMETIMES. Mostly, though, O some admirer speculates tor them and reading the market news .simply is a sort of ceremony, because" they seldom know how their money is placed. They never know whether they are winning or losing, so they don’t worry. ’■And." Jim added gravely, "they never lose.” "I suppose not.” Sheila smiled. They walked to the theater slowly. A rehearsal was to be called at noon and would continue until the matinee performance. At the theater there was a surprise in store for them. It was t not the news about Jim Baine in the morning newspaper that seemed to be attracting attention back stage. As Jim and Sheila passed through the stage door, it seemed to tlie girl that the doorman looked at her curiously. There was the sound of loud voices, arguing, explosive. One of the voices was feminine, shrill and angry. The others were low-pitched meant to be conciliatory. Marion Randolph, the star, was having her say, and evidently didn’t care who knew it. Mike and the ■ stage manager were doing what they could to placate her. Jappy Foster, a member of the chorus, appeared around one of the flies, her r/es round with interest. She looked at Sheila curiously, disappeared and came back again with an equally interested companion. The two girls whispered busily. “What’s all the commotion?’ Jim asked jokingly. "Is it time to feed the animals.” But sheila did not reply. As if turned to Stone she waited for what she knew would be inevitable. It came abruptly. Marion Randolph's voice rose hysterically. , "I don’t give a damn about her talent! I tell you Shaynp goes out of this show or I do. You can take your choice right now!” CHAPTER FIFTEEN JIM and Sheila stood motionless. Then for the first time Jim showed that his feeling for the girl was more than casual interest. His hand closed over hers protectively. She nodded, smiling gratefully. "1 tell you,” Marion Randolph was insisting, “cither Shayne leaves this show or I do! Why, she used every trick in the trade to steal my scenes. "You think she can dance, do you? Do you call that dancing? All right—l meant what I said! Either she goes or I go!” >. Mike broke in then. "Now listen, Miss Randolph, you're excited. Just because a small town critic shows how little he knows, you don't want to let it bother you. "Wait until we get to Broadway! What do they know about a real performance here, anyway? They—” Miss Randolph was not to be mollified. "The trouble is,” she went on as though Mike had not spoken, "her part is too good. Now 111 tell you what you can do. Put Shayne out and cut the part for whoever takes it. Then I'll stay!” ‘'We’ll talk it over later, Miss Randolph,” interrupted the production manager smoothly. "It’s just as Mike said, though. Shayne Ms all right, but you’re so much better! "You want a good company, don’t you? Why, you're the best little leading lady on the boards right now. Shayne nor any one else can't touch you ” "You won't find half a dozen singers who can reach that top note in ‘Happy Days.’ either!” Miss Randolph said warningly. "We don’t need half a dozen.” "No? I mean there aren’t half H dozen—and those there are, are all signed. You don't need Shayne in this show and that's fiat. Or if you do need her, then you don't need me! "I don't care whether or not I have this job. Half a dozen producers are waiting to sign me up and you know it!” Mike’s tone changed. "But listen, Miss Randolph, this Shayne is a good kid. She can dance. She has the looks. That old man ” “What's that about the old man?” demanded the leading lady viciously. Then without waiting for an answer she went on. "That's a good cue! That’s great! Well, you tell the old man for me.” her eyes flashed, "that he can let one of us go. And I don't care which!” 8 a 8 MIKE considered. "Maybe he won’t either, Miss Randolph. Who knows?” "I know!” The actress’ voice broke hysterically and the flood ' loosened in deep, wrenching sobs. "Better not let her get excited,” 1 Mike whispered nervously, ignor-; ing the obvious fact that it had been he who had caused the out- i break. He stepped toward her and placd a pudgy hand on her heaving shoulder. "Now see here,” he said uncertainly. "You're being foolish to think even for a moment that -r Shayne can overshadow you. What would the folks on Broadway say if they could hear you?” He laughed—but the sound was feeble. Over Miss Randolph's curly,

KEPT RIGHT IN CELLOPHANE

I blondined head his eyes sought those of the production manager's in mute appeal. "Imagine you bel ing jealous of Shayne! That's a j hot onr! Look at the man we | found for you—straight from the | Four Hundred. I suppose you read that in the morning paper? Not many girls can play love scenes with one of those boys every night!” Outside in the wings Sheila's eyes sought Jim's and flickered in humorous sympathy. "Can you imagine that!” Jim whispered, pressing her hand encouragingly. But Sheila’s face was grave again. There was no doubt about the fact that Marion Randolph's position in the show was vastly more important than her own. Miss Randolph was the star. People would come to see the show because she was in it. Her dressing room was sound proof, furnished with restful, attractive furniture. Her private car and chauffeur took net back and forth from the hotel. Her own cook prepared her meals. She had two maids, only one of whom she paid herself. Oh, yes, Marion Randolph’s place in the show was secure. She was a star in her own right and, moreover, she had “influence.” That was the reason Mike had tried to cajole her into forgetting her grievance. Mine knew that if Miss Randolph peisisted she would have her way and Sheila would be out. "She can’t do anything,” Jim whispered uncertainly as he and Sheila moved along. The girl smiled ruefully. "She can do enough.” "Maybe she won’t, though.” "Maybe. We'll see what happens.” tt u tt A ND for a time nothing did -l*- happen. Reviews of the show in the evening newspapers praised Miss Randolph extravagantly. There was reason for this, because the actress really was skillful. It was also true that an admirer of Miss Randolph’s was the "angel” backing the production financially. Things hadn't gone any too well with Mandrake recently, for all his fame. Like others, he had to secure capital where he could get it. The play returned to Broadway and there acclaim for Miss Randolph was abundant, superlative, and gratifying., There was only one unfortunate drawback. Reckoned inch by inch Miss Randolph’s notices slightly underspaced those given Sheila. So Sheila left the show. Mandrake said he was sorry. He spread his hands in dismay as he told her. A little later he might have something for her. And again Sheila was out of a job. "But they can’t do such a thing!” Jim Blaine stormed. “It isn’t fair and anyhow they need you. You’re half the show!” “I could be three-fourths of it and it wouldn’t make any difference.” She smiled gallantly. “Anyhow, there are other jobs.” "And perhaps other Marion Randolphs,” Jim said slowly. Then two things happened with startling rapidity. First Dick Stanley returned to New York, dropping upon Sheila’s horizon like a bolt from the blue. He telephoned one morning and told her he had taken an apartment —yes, a penthouse. He was working in earnest now, he said. He had written a play and wanted Sheila to read it. “I’d like to,” she agreed. “Just so you don’t read it to me. I'm not a good listener.” "How about coming up for tea?” 8 8 8 THERE was a pause and then a hardly perceptible sigh traveled over the wire. "You aren’t busy are you?” Dick asked. “Come up for tea today.” "You’re sure it's tea?” Sheila countered. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to accept Dick's first invitation so soon. It might be better to keep him waiting, let him call once or twice before he found her free. But, after all, Dick was a friend. She was out of luck and she longed to talk tilings over with him. (To Be Continued)

am: BY BRUCE CATTON MUSSOLINI is not interested. and never has been, in any scheme that would turn him into a king. x „ , He believes that the controlled capitalism" of Fascism will prove an enduring thing in Italy. He owes much to the patience and self-discipline he learned during his various terms of imprisonment before the war. These are among the thing one gathers from "Talks with Mussolini." by Emil Ludwig. Ludwig went to Rome and arranged for a series of evening conferences with the Italian dictator. He has set down the result in this book, and it makes a moderately interesting, though rather unimportant, collection of dialogues in which Mussolini appears in his familiar guise. Mussolini, we read, is something of a fatalist, and refused to take any especial precautions to avoid assassination. He has a tremendous personal magnetism—l’ve read that before, somewhere, I think —and a vast amount of executive ability; he believes that an anarchist is a potential dictator gone wrong, and he has studied the life of Napoleon with profit to himself. And so on. Reading it, I got the impression that an over-rated writer was interviewing an over-rated statesman, but maybe I’m wrong. The book is published by Little, Brown and Cos., and costs $2.75.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

W .1 IMPLORE YOU,-BUSTER,HOT SO HAST, 0 I TO WITHWAW Your. HASTY ] $%%%? -gus ? JAVCEr 1 A CHALLENGE TO WRESTLE /; , O M WAS TELLING'! JAK-E/—NATURALLY X 1 J OH ,YfcH . ?I me THAT, WHEN 4 know’ HIM BETTER THAN j f /( he WAS A ToT, "I "YOU -DO AND I TELL L TO FILL UPON A HE PLAYED ■JY- YOU TRUTHFULLY, HE j \ HONEY AN / / WITH TRUNKS 1 ( DOESN'T KNOW HIS OWN K( / ? COR BUILDING gb STRENGTH t I'VE SEEN Lx A T.T L - JV. BLOCKS/ f= R HIM GRAPPLE A HUfcE CIRCUS V Vum V ( nV^/lF V 1 1 © 1933 BY HCA -.'FAVICE, IWC.V v VUg—V 4 —\ -uK / J

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

Hi (Sou ear them just Ame thunk heS C domt.like it, heh? "1 f just fix \ Woh, kjo ess.".."me ff sounds like U- 2 HAW Poo BteHT, SHAM P 00... BY ) FLECkLES MO LIKE WELL, JUST BRiNC ALL A NICE FRIED ) B VOO WHAT OPOM UP ‘TTPOUBLE, BlLty. y o HAS THE BOWES OF THE PEPPER. TOO THE PEST ISI FOR MS, , £SS FOR ( A'AkEE E66= (( L- COME OH l! / PREPARED TEN TINKERS/.* HOT SWAM-POO-.. CANT / ME, SHAM J PLIED CHICKEN.. WV-r /wl 1° A V7WAT DO YOU TWlNlk \ Co/v.-X \\j \ THROW . FOOD LIHE J \ poo [! jf HOH, NICE AND COMES i'l / V'/ MEXICAN OP THAT, FRECKLES /- V 1 THAT OUT .'! f M ' BROWN—LOTS LOUD TALK fi J l If ° dinner, £7% AW[> V. / £sl fff'm.

WASHINGTON TUBBS II

N C BUMMER 1 HE \HE VSS FORCING A pER VIOOPEE A PUT PER, —O A6REEP TO PER. )US IMTO VAR-VJE PARTIES \SS SUMMER ON JPOT’S N —i FALL • 'T. S' L n NOODLE.7UNP 6ET A /STUFF! /

SALESMAN SAM

r \\\ SfA,chuck l uifMTiMy < Maoj! Tesr g-iTtim' upN fMOtu LOOKP> chuck \ A ffi( cmpp I v/a rt-orm dim i c W Ta <so ua am' sTeeR see alder, /Thd.ss a Nei cS-oXTDi PDiUL strimg-s POPPET SSHSmM T^lnrr tomn . l hau u|

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

r i T y( I 1 ! ~ SAV v . HODO HV HitW GET-OP, 1M NiOT T\E>MU Top ANV VMiAKST MV SWW ? . COMPLWAEMTS \'d HOIbEGT I x uve tVnio\m vjotcvxk f OP\IM\OM , 5* >•' "1? PEAU-V m'tPOEV j EV\ f Y / J ' '-.

TARZAN THE UNTAMED

_

After killing the vulture with his bare hands and teeth, Tarzan felt he could now sleep in safety. Rain, beating heavily on his body, awakened him. Catching the precious drops, he transferred them to his parched throat.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

Only a little he got at a time, but that was best. The few mouthfuls of Ska he had eaten, together with the vulture's blood and rain water refreshed him greatly, putting new strength into ~is tired muscles.

—By Ahern

OUT OUR WAY

Hu V-. t I ' Bopm thirty sears Too Soom . i933 „ Y wea mbvk;c^-M u s „ AT ory-Ht

BUT MY 60SM! I'M ONLY "V ( IMPERSCMATIN’ WILLY WILLY- iP^TI ViOT’LL HAPPEN WHEN HE COMES -Q l ;f mt will nz Q mi go^ BE? M$ OR MINE? 04024400. D- - MOTTK TItEtICNtEMT! b2l c,, i ; , jby hL'...VIC*. . A LOOMS! ARMY REAPY. WAVTIMG. TINY ■TMll.,f^^ll l - /J&MBltk \#PANPEtAONIA UMPREPAR6D HAS HAP NO _ . _ /' ■“ ’7 I " rrm army since Povjnfau of \Wj PR>HC€ IS Ufi TUE A<R~F^AU"TIC.J 9 \OLEON. OH, WOE TO PAtAPEMONIA.

. ; ; ; pv OKAV ! I VOOOLOVT VOEAP. NT TO A TOTV ,VOOPE TVN 9.OUE.<oV \ BOMG' WA9O T\MTG PAP.TV—\M\TV? TW\VN6 1 EME9. SAVi \H 'COOED AT i A GOOD NPOG EIGHT \M LEAST, SAY V'UUE \T OE AEN_ TH* - " j , ~ S. P*. O, f BY ... VB.-C

Though there was no shining sun, the world looked bright aad cheerful, for Tarzan knew that he was saved. The bird that would have devoured him and the providential rain had saved him at the very moment that death seemed inevitable! \

—By Edg-ar Rice Burroughs

With something of ms old force, the ape-man set out with steady gait .toward the hills of promise rising alluringly ahead. Darkness fell before he reached them. Even his keen eyes could no 4 penterate the blackness farther than a few feet. J

PAGE 15

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Snail

—By Martin