Indianapolis Times, Volume 44, Number 235, Indianapolis, Marion County, 9 February 1933 — Page 15

FEB. 9, 1933

SPOTLTiSRT3fi|

begin Turk today SHEILA SHAYNE dancer, refuse* to marrv DIC Ks TANLKY. ,m of wealthy parent.", who is in New Yoric trying to iearr, to write play* Shelia's Idea of marriage is a cory little home far from Broadwav Although she has spent ail her life on the stage she would be glad to leave the theater. She secures a part in a road show and in a lit tie mldwrstem City meets JEHRY WYMAN, who seems to be a hard-working voung man with little money. Sheila does not know Jerry's lather own- the factory where he sorts For a time Jerry is at’er.Uve ar.d Bhella falls ;n >o\e with him. Soon 1 his affection v etns to eoo!. He writes infrequently and this makes Sheila unhappy. Hack In New York -he gets a Job in ft fashionable night Club. She sres Jerry there with some friends. He tells ter he has tried to call her, but she does not believe this and refuses to make an engagement with him. She Join.' another road company ar.d after several months, they play in Jerry's home town Each dav she hopes to hear from him. but no word comes Finally she telephones to him. Jerry agrees to come to see her after the maMere perfo'ma"iee NOW GO ON WITH THE ST OR!. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO (Continued She had forgotten pride and dignity when she had telephoned. Oh, yes. she deserved tliLs humiliation. Every bit of it. She never, never would do such a thing again. And suddenly her heart quickened. Hope, warm and comforting, returned. Perhaps Jerry would telephone her at the hotel. Perhaps he had called there already. She walked on swiftly, head held high, her eyes bright with unshed tears. At a corner, startled, she heard her name. “Oh. Sheila!” i It was the teasing voice she knew so well. Yes it was Jerry Wyman suddenly beside her, his hfit in one hand, his eyes shining, lips bowed In a bright smile. “Sheila, were you running away from me?” lie asked. Jerry hud fallen into step beside her. The same Jerry she had known a year ago. “Oh!” Sheila Shayno said softly. And suddenly the world was a bright and very wonderful place. She raised her eyes to meet his. “Oh, Jerry—!" CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE JERRY and Sheila entered the side door of the Grandmoro hotel. The corridor extending to that door led past cigar and news stands to the lobby. But near the entrance there was a small parlor, usually Vacant, known as the Rose room. With swiftly beating heart, Sheila preceded Jerry into this parlor. The mezzanine lounge was much too public for their talk. There was no one else there. Sheila sat down on the brocadecovered divan and Jerry dropped beside her. “Terribly sorry I can't ask you to dinner tonight Sheila,” he said. “How about tea?” He smiled. “I don’t often indulge in that sort of thing, but maybe it’s one of your habits. Do they serve it here or must we go to the dining room?” She knew and Jerry knew perfectly well that they did not serve tea in the Rose room. They did not, as a matter of fact, serve it anywhere. When tea was served in Spencer, it was served at some one’s home. “You mean that you have an engagement?” Sheila asked. Then, brightening, she added, “Why not drop around after the show tonight? We are leaving at midnight, but I can have my things packed and ready. Maybe” (her voice shook a little) “you could take me for a little drive?” The rising inflection as she finished the sentence softened the fact that she was making the advances. She watched the young man at her side. Jerry was leaning back against the -divan, one leg crossed over the other, swinging easily. His silver cigaret case was open in his hand. 000 SUDDENLY he snapped the case shut. And in that instant the situation became clear to Sheila. Jerry had made love to her. He had almost asked her to marry him. He had said that he loved her, promised to follow her to New York. Well—ho had done that. He had gone to New York, but not to see her. Sheila doubted that her being there had had anything to do with that journey. Jerry probably made frequent trips to New York. The Jerry she had met wearing , overalls, carrying his lunch in a paper b3g. had completely fooled her. The scion of a wealthy family working up from the ranks! Oh. but she had made herself ridiculous. An impulse to laugh swept over her. She knew before he spoke what Jerry would say. “I’m tird up at home tonight. Sorry.” That and a charming smile. And her guess was correct. He said It almost in those very words. “When arc you returning to New York?” he asked after a moment. Jerry sat up straight, reached for his hat and made as if to rise. He was going now. She would not see him again. “New York?” Sheila repeated. “Oh, we have forty weeks’ booking. We’ve hardly been out a month.” “Long season, isn’t it?” “A long season. Yes.” He rose, twirling his hat in his hands, facing her. “Sheila, don't look that way, dear.” he began, his expression suddenly tender. So she was. making it as plain os that that she was miserable. Her lips trembled. Was she going to cry? “Sheila!” The corridor outside was empty, There was no one to see. Jerry's arnf, outstretched, inclosed her. “/low could you hurt me so?” she asked later, reproachfully. “But darling—” “You'll have dinner with me?” her voice was pleading. “Oh. Jerry, say you will!” Telephone home. Tell them you’ll be there by 8 o'clock That's early! The whole evening will belong to them. Do stay Jerry!” “Well, maybe ” 000 BUT later, in her dressing room at the theater, Sheila reviewed ’ the scene uncomfortably. How she

WRIGLEY’S^. LOOK FOR THE REDTAPE OPENER I

1 had begged him! Her face grew crimson at the thought. How she i had pleaded with him to dine with her? She, Sheila Shayne, who had iyen so proud of her independence! Leaving Jerry in the lobby, she had hurried to her room, dressed carefully and called Henri, the head waiter, on the telephone. She had ; given the dinner order. The party was to be at her expense. “Melon, Henri, and fillet of sole. Your best salad. An ice. And i demitasse.” “In your room, Miss Shayne?” the waiter asked. “No. I want dinner for two. And the corner table if it isn’t taken.” The corner table was concealed cleverly behind palms. Henri himself would serve the dinner. He would see that the food was excellent. Saturday night was a night of festivity at the Grandmore. There was always dancing there on Saturdays and music through the dinner hour. Seated in the dining room, Sheila discounted her earlier fears. She looked across at Jerry and was sure he did love her. “Maybe,” she thought, “he’ll come to see me off when the train leaves after all.” But Jerry did not suggest it. When the dinner was over, he escorted her to the stage door. Sheila clung to him. “Gocdby, dear,” he said softly. “Then you can't—?” Her voice broke. Jerry shook his head. “Don't see how I could make it.” He kissed her gently. “Where do you play next?” “Burton.” “Ah! Jerry's tone was brighter. He released her arm as a chorus man, whistling, turned into the alleyway leading to the stage door. “Burton! That’s only four hours away. Suppose I see you—say, Wednesday evening—for dinner?” Wednesday they would play a matinee in Burton. It meant a hard day. “You stay at the Mansion house, of course?” Jerry went on. Sheila nodded. “Then suppose we make it Wednesday. It will be a real celebration. I'll call you after the show Tuesday night just to remind you.” As if she needed reminding! “That will be fine,” Sheila agreed. “Look here, if there’s any party on or anything don’t wait for my call. Go ahead and enjoy yourself. If I don’t get you I’ll write or come any how. Keep Wednesday open.” “But call me, Jerry!” 000 FACING departure, his words had sounded comforting. A date with Jerry who would travel four hours to meet her. Jerry who had not moved a little finger to see her while she had been in Spencer! But she would not see him on Wednesday. Sheila danced exquisitely that night. Every one said so. She reappeared for encore after encore. “Listen, baby, let those folks go home! We don't want to miss our train,” the comedian urged as, panting and spent, Sheila leaned against a painted tree in the wings. Had her audience been able to see her then, it might have shown mercy. The applause became deafening. The stage manager nodded and the orchestra again began playing Sheila’s number. With a sigh hardly audible, she overcame her weariness. She fluttered to the entrance to the stage, smiling, electrified. She had to go through the entire dance. She had hoped it would be just a few steps and a kiss of her hand. After six intricate dances that should have sufficed. But it did not suffice. Tripping, whirling, weaving, fluttering, her head thrown back, her eyes starry, Sheila went through the complete routine. Watching her. as he had watched her a hundred times, the comedian marveled. Was this airy figure the weary, drooping girl who hardly five minutes earlier had stood near him in the wings? (To Be Continued)

TTSODR BY BRUC£ CAJTON

IF you haven't got squared away on this Technocracy business, there are several books on the market that might prove helpful to you. To begin with, there is “Introduction to Technocracy,” by Howard Scott and others (John Day: 90 cents) in which th eauthentic doctrine, graven on stone, is handed down direct from Sinai. Agree with it or not, you'll at least find it adequately expounded here, and while the book is reticent about the way in which the world of Technocracy is to come into existence, it is stimulating and provocative to-a marked degree. An even better way of approach —better, because unbiased—is provided in “What is Technocracy? by Allen Raymond (Whittlesey House: $2). Here a qualified reported not only expounds Technocracy, but sketches in what he has been able to learn of the career and personality of Howard Scott, points out the field in which th etechnocrats’ statements of fact have been flatly contradicted, and adds a thoughtful and intelligent discussion of the entire business. Then there is. Stuart Chase's “Technocracy —an Interpretation.” one of the John Day Company’s 25-cent pamphlets. Mr. Chase is sympathetic to the new gospel, but his eyes are fully open to its defects; and. as you might expect, his little pamphlet is eminently readable and highly interesting. These three books at least will give you an idea of what all the shooting is about.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

/ NOW MIND,WOOPLE— TU'DOC IS *v-X THATS A I'VE TOLL TME MISSUS if E6AL,DOCTOR, ] / AND SHE IS GOING TO * f MILK, AND [> SJLr -frt‘ HAVE H\£ | KEEP CHECK ON YOU/ I 1 NOTHING ELSE cM NEAREST I FAVORITE l FIVE QUARTS OF; J ( MOT EVEN ‘i HE HAS BEEN S CPU NT t MILK A DAY AND NO A LITTLE STEAK/C TO TH' STUFT7 / > OTHER FORM OF FOOD OR A SNACK / IN FIFTY / J/SSt rORTHENEWTWO / OR HAM HOCKS?J >S 5 o^ T N ' \ ) UM - F,V& //Sh^|2 ( M N y'C QUARTS OF <( ON A MILK J^CAKtSy 2 r 11. nl MU Hwyifc. mrnCGU g PUT opp^p* 1 , Z’G‘ J

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

'(TOME OH! JUST watch (pm Ml - (Hue sms LIVE 1H a gUPE. BOWLg. MICE. OF MISOOITC. UMBS. ijjME VOUUS SEEI VWMAU sA fnHßgQMiy TOOLS aeethehupf If sracsuaaMsatesiw* 4 *'*-* wsssara, mammas

WASHINGTON TUBBS II

f uot clue, Chief, the kly to thet\/piffle! NA /but pvdyoo \V)AS LOCKED UP IN THE PRINCE'S DESK, AND I KNEW DOT \ NOTICE THAT THE |*| y 7 LONG AGO. I LOCK OKi THE Vlll • / V A ( BUT DER. I DESK HAD BEEN }***%• ( . , awfa ' \ \ j tampered vivth^/Y

SALESMAN SAM

i ddOM UP-sTpuRS OELL0 ELL,t oq Q£R.MEp\ "CVtPiTs TR' HARDEST KIWOA LDOR.K — A (S-OSH "A UJELL IP- VT" (‘AAKE.S l*T" AkW ' GWD CUASHDP! IT'S QUITTING <5-LfAP TA HEAR. CLEANIN' UP W CELLAR- AMD I HANEM'T ) A ; A Ar TIpC A I | That! sToppeo a tAiNuTe. all day [ 3esr / meuj ome lrv ti^- \ 111 MC. -—-.ICt. lie! .AT. (3.- 1,11

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

I r —■' 1 r,_; ““ T —’ "A l KOPfc NOU M3£ 6N\\<bF\tO \<b QUWE NIY VOU<3. | ! *Wf\T VOO WOW VW Tte\fc ■= BoOVt

TARZAN THE UNTAMED

fvl. Copyrifht. 191 Jby Edpar R:cy Burroughs HXON D*tribiit*d by I'r. ;pd Future Syndicttr Inf K-lOfc 7 '14- // )U |J| * 7 mtf t//

“I am Tarzan of the Ape>! I come to dance the Dum-Dum with my brothers! - ’ cried the apeman. He made a motion to xhe drummers, who immediate took up the cadence of the dance again. It was then that Go-lat gave up. I

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

Raising his bloody face he cried. “Kagoda (I surrender)! Tarzan shall join his brothers and Go-lat will dance with him! - ’ Now the girl in the tree saw- the savage man leaping, bending and stamping with the savage apes in the ancient rites of the Dum-Dum. /

—By Ahern

OUT OUR WAY

— ——— ■■■ ■ t ihiii ' BOVOH . Tv-UE.T RtMi*sJDs\/ AM’, OiH- V Got ME. W'CjHT 1 ' KAE* 1 vjH —l To MOWitsi' I • L *TO DO nW waSH\nl-4 MW BEO * s -"v.vAnj COWS, ST OOnsKj i Im AGYTTIN A\nFOL| HAIMT PIAMTiM* PAMSEfc i-\TTuE Lr—-J s-'S-sT BEAT / n/\aDL oP- k^ihOim' IAMIKiGr . iT.STiFFT - ThET A I A BaaßaMA seu /\ cut right / oAvjoeo __ \T. A EF SHES AGQ*NI' • X OIBWILUAMS NMHERe mem YWFPE MEM. r l9 33 B vft sf ftv,cc, W cfte GU .seftr e er.

/ YOU'RE R\GHT*. "Y tMO 1 E.T Tv-.ftT FELLB. SURE Ht 5®.Y ' KNOW. TuA / SOME MON BROKE \* COMBIRLTIOh TO uovlTO FWO \ RRVHCE, THE RMWST6R,|i ! DEfi LOC.K UWD TOOK. ) ' r ' lt QuT \]OT ?CoPl£Ej ftWO AM OLP SERMMiT, V L>EO. KtV y H*l y KMEW ObR l NP.MEP> KLOCK. y ... —-

f: % r YES | AViO SEE 1 AN ADEQUATE AVbO tWE E\R \ ROVAEE'E OE APPROPRIATE: CA9/5 60\THOOEE \N> THE COUNTRY l / AT NAY E>\sVosA'u \ YOO HAD NOTHIN, G 9AEKTAE—YoRTY OR. YYTY mmm them at shooed awle - _ PIS f OViCE \ LOTHINiG PRETENTIOOG , bTAEYEG, Or COOREE. LODGE. f J % YOU ON>EE\S. < bTAN)'O —LO 6AY &OVE COOR.EE ,?OOE, ANiE UjA --- - ■ " ' -mm

His roars and growls were more beastly than the beasts, his handsome face distorted with savage ferocity as he beat his great breast. It was weird, this strange scene that she looked upon, and not without beauty.

—Ey Edgar Rice Burroughs

It was a scene that probably no other human being had ever witnessed —and yet it was horrible! As she gazed spellbound, a stealthy movement in the tree behind her caused her to turn her head. Sheeta, the panther, had found her out!

PAGE 15

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin