Indianapolis Times, Volume 44, Number 238, Indianapolis, Marion County, 13 February 1933 — Page 13

JEB. 13, 1933_

SPOTOSTOiI^

begin here today SHEILA SHAYNE. rfatiCfr. ref'iv* to marry UICK STANLEY. son of wealthy parents, who is In New York trying to learn to write plays - Shelias idea of marriage is a eo7.v j”' lß home far from Broadway Although she has spent all her life on ■he stage, she would be glad to leave the theater She secures a part in a road show •ndjn a little mldwestern eitv meets JERRY WYMAN, who seems to be a „ barri-workinp young rr.an with little money. Sheila does not know Jerry s lather owns, the factory where he works For a time Jerrv is attentive and “hella falls in love with him. Soon his a flection seems to cool He writes infreouently and this makes Sheila unhappy. Back In New York, she gets a job In a fashionable night club She sees Jerry there with some friends. He tells her he ha-* tried to call her. j hut she does not be..eve this and relute* to make an engagement with him. She Joins another road company and after several months they play in Jerrv s home town Each day she hopes to hear from him. but no word fom | 's Finally she telephones and he comes to ice her. Jerrv promises to see her the following week, nut breaks this promise Weeks pass and Sncila has no word from him. The tour end- and the company returns to New York. Sheila learns from her friend. JAPPY. a chorus girl, that Jerrv has married a girl in his home town. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE (Continued) “I think Sheila’s pretty hard hit,” j Jappy told her. “Mayb-' she deserves a little punishment for the way she treats that j men Stanley boy.” “What’s she done to him?” Jappy’s tone became Instantly defensive. “You’re asking mo?” Frances laughed. “When Sheila first met Dttk he was a regular play boy. Everybody’s friend, always out for a good time. “Now you never see him anywhere. They say he's working trying to write plays or something. Nobody even knows where he's living.” "And he's writing a play?” “Well, so they tell me. They say he gets only a small allowance from his family, keeps himsoff shut up somewhere in an out-of-the-way place banging away at a typewriter.” “I suppose Dick was in love with Sheila," murmured Jappy. “He is and always will be,” the other girl assured her. “And that’s wljy I think Sheila's such an idiot. Wasting her time, thinking about Jerry Wyman when she could have Dick!’ a a a JAPPY considered this. Fond as she was of Sheila, she saw no way that she could do anything more to help her. It was a few nights later that Tillie and Jim Blaine, on their way to see anew musical comedy, urged Sheila to come along with them. Jim was resting between engagements. The other four Samper sisters were appearing together, giving Tillie a free evening. Sheila, wearing a blue Chinese mandarin coat, was comfortably curled up on the living room divan. She i smiled, but shook her I head. “Run along. I’d rather Stay here and be lazy.” They could not persuade her to Join them. “Just bring me some salt water taffy," she called after them. Her voice sounded cheerful, but when Tillie and her handsome young husband had departed Sheila turned her face against the pillow and lay silent for a long time. “I think we’d better whisper a word •or two into Dick Stanley’s ear,” Tillie was saying as she and Jim boarded a downtown bus. “I don’t,” Jim objected. “But, darling, Dick loves her!” “Os course he docs. And Sheila lovvss a poor sap answering to the name of Wyman. If we let Dick know she’s blue, and he rushes in and wins, he’ll always have the sneaking feeling that she said ‘yes’ on the rebound. “Let them alone, Tillie. I believe in fate. Dick will find Sheila if it is to be that way, just as I found you.” "Maybe you’re right,” Tillie admitted finally. And perhaps he was. At any rate what was to happen shortly scarcely could be ascribed to anything but fate. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX I"' ATE took a hand in Sheila's af- * fairs with the abruptness that is often Fate's way. She had been idle for weeks now. If any one had asked, Sheila would have said she had "plenty of money saved.” But plenty of money minus SSO, minus $25 and smaller sums will deplete any account if given time enough. And this had happened to Sheila s savings. “Sheila,” Tillie Samper said one morning, “You and I are going down town today! We're going to have permanent waves and we're going to buy new hats. There's nothing that sets a woman up like anew hat!” Sheila eyed herself languidly in the mirror. “I suppose I look terribly,” she said. “But I like to g k .vo my skin a rest when I’m not working.” 'She rubbed one hand across h-r smooth pale cheek. “A little pale, that’s all," diagnosed the resolute Tillie. She rose. “Well fix that soon enough. Come on.” "I don't believe I have any money.” “What?” “I don't think I have enough money to go shopping." “Oh. we don't need to spend a lot. All the stores are offering wonderful bargains. You can pick up the cutest things—” "Not if any one is looking!" Sheila retorted. “I don’t believe I have a single sou. Look in the book. It’s in my handkerchief case." The savings book, duly produced. told a sad story indeed. Not quite so bad as Sheila had forecast. but sad enough. The balance was $19.40. Since the first of the month, barely three weeks ago, Sheila had made frequent withdrawals of sums ranging from SIOO to $lO. “Sheila Shayne—you’ve been loaning money, haven't you?" Tillie said accusingly. • I have. What else can you do? It’s simpler than listening to sob stories." She sank wearily into a chair. “I didn't realize until this

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morning, though, that it was going so fast. Guess I'll have to go to work!” “Say, in the mood you're in, you couldn't get a job anywhere!" “No, I suppose not.” “Tien snap out of it, do you hear?" Tiilie’s voice rose wrathfully. It was hard to be cross with Sheila, but it seemed to loyal little Tillie the one chance. “Listen! Get out and get yourself a job, and if I hear of you giving another cent to any one—anyone—l'll—” Tillie paused in a frantic search for a fitting threat. She floundered badly. “I’ll annihilate you! I will!” “Tillie, I guess I don’t care what happens to me!” “Darling!” Pressed against Tiilie’s shoulder, Sheila sobbed as if her heart would break. “You love Jim, don't you, Tillie?” she said when she was able to speak. “Could you stand it to lose him? Would you care what happened to you if you did?” “I know.” Tillie's voice broke sharply. “But, honey, it's hard to see, I know, but there are other things. There are other people—” B B B HALF an hour later, smartly gowned, as serene as if nothing had occurred, the two girls sauntered forth to look for a job for Sheila. At Johnny Harrell's office Sheila faced the disgruntled agent with something akin to alarm. “Going to listen to reason, are you?” he grunted. “Fine! Going to tell me you'll take a role I’ve just broken my neck to fill? Going to say you’ll sign up now and take a good contract when I get it for you? “Well. I haven’t a thing for you. Not a thing! Hold on—wait a minute! Miss Rosenbaum, hand me that letter from Abbott, will you?” Miss Rosenbaum, haughty, efficient and tailored, eyed Sheila as coolly as if she, too, had not shared Harrells harassment in trying to find a substitute for Sheila. "The position was filled this morning, Mr. Harrell. Grace Sawyer has the part.” Harrell frowned. “Well, then, that's out! Tell you what, Sheila, if you really want to go to work I’ll have you in a show inside a week. Want a night club job to fill in?” “If she can use her own routine,” interposed Tillie. “She isn't up to filling in for someone else.” Tillie was high-salaried and Harrell heard her with respect. "Well, Club Volens want a single,” he said. “You'll do fine. Toddle up there and I’ll get Grady on the wire.” The two girls left. “He’ll tell Grady he scoured the town to find you,” Tillie giggled as they went down the dusty stairs to the street. “That’s all right with me,” Sheila said wearily. “She’ll snap out of it when she hears the music,” Tillie told herself. “She can’t listen to music and not dance!” B B B THE girls found Grady seated in the tiny office at the rear of the garish night club, which in its midday aspect looked forlorn and cheap. Tables were placed on tables. Cleaning men listlessly were swabbing the floor. An aproned waiter was gathering table appurtenances together on a tray. “Yeah, Johnny phoned,” Grady said, without taking his feet off the nearest chair. “I’ve sot a spot that needs filling. Danced here last year, didn’t you, with Rodney? If you are as good in a single, you might work in all right.” “She’s better in a single,” the* faithful Tillie thrust in and Grady raised a sarcastic eyebrow. “Am I doing business with her or you, sister?” he wanted to know. “I’m very good in a single,” Sheila hastened to say in her own behalf. Grady grinned, “O. K. You take a fifteen-minute spot in the show at 10:30 and another at 11:45. Get in touch with Mack. He’s the leader and see if you can work out something big. Ever plug a song?” “Have you one you want plugged?” asked Sheila cautiously. Grady grinned again. “You and Mack be down here for a rehearsal at 4:30,” he said. “Mack has a song I want to work in for Blind Timmy. It’s a peach.” BUM BLIND TIMMY! She could earn money, fill in until a real job came along and help Timmy as well. Her voice was well adapted to most of Timmy's music. Yet, as Sheila well knew, it wasn't a singing voice. It was a husky sort of recitation. Whatever it was, it went over. That was all that was necessary. “Timmy’ll be tickled to death.” Tillie chattered as she and Sheila ■ set off together. Tillie had an en- ■ gagement to lunch with her husband and Sheila decided not to join j them. Left alone, she sought out. Mack. | the orchestra leader, by calling Joe i Paris’ office and asking for the I phone number. Mack seemed to be glad she was to dance. But did I she need a rehearsal, he askes. i Couldn't she just take the number home and run through it? - "I can. but I won’t,” said Sheila firmly. “Grady's orders.’.’ Mack—billed as Merry Maclntyre and his Jazz Boys—seemed less ; than merry as he reluctantly agreed to arrive at the club two hours earlier than usual. “What are you going to dance?” Tillie asked later, when she found Sheila in her room busy at her custume trunk. The apathy of the morning had fled. Color flamed in Sheila's cheeks. She sat on the floor, surrounded by floating chiffon, gay satins, feathered costumes, sequinned boleros, flaming velvets. “I thought I'd do that nightingale ! number.” Sheila answered, absorbed, j "Then as an encore—if I have one—i that tap dance I did in 'Fine Feath- ! ers.’ I like that. If Mack thinks ‘ something else would be better we ( can decide later.” (To Be Continued)

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

E-I&AH, MISTAW MA. JAW, YO JASON ? BLFSS IS N A MILK DITE, AN' YO ALL ' YOU, A THOUSAND ]f ALLOWED NUFFIN "BUT MILK.O '> TIMES? FRlt-D J' /, DATS ALL ‘RIGHT FO' "BABIES, l \ CHICKEN AND \ MWAT YO NEED IS BISCUITS-UM-M 0 . _YO WHUT ME A DOLLAH. J\ A "REPAST PIT j UVLL GIT MAH WIPE TO FRY YO L GODS OF / ESS OB CHICKEN, WIP SOUTHERN \ OLYMPUS ? ? ?CUITS, YOWZA? AH'LL SNUK IT AH, JASON,. "DOWN IN TH' BASEMENT FO' WWAT A STERLING J YO TO

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

r HEAR ’.HAT, BILLY? ) AVE.... AYE..... AM* ’ f |SB L) j - - AMY WAY f THEY’RE. GETTING ) AYE.... AYE.... V s THE BEAT OF ) I DOW’T LIKE THE CJ ikk M UNCLE HAREY AMD ) thfv’PF Pottim 1 -i LOUDER/ WE’LL BE OM ) n DEUMS // rs SOUND OF ’EM.... AMAZEMENT, J .MJfrfV BILLY BOWLEGS ON A GOOD SHOW f NOW-WE. < A- > IT MEANS TPOUBLE. WHILE ’W -X ( WOULD BE HERE K FOR ME * f 7 6 ° T CLEA * J

WASHINGTON TUBBS II

?ouce simi) f jp■■ /* SNAG. FAIL To SOLVJE GIGANTIC treasury £p - y -/TTiAs^ N \ || TaWH lumbago. ) l j —t , V / (A j) E*-gangster, BOY-fRtEND Os- A f U CHORUS GIRL GUAP.D. I < jp J * HEALTH • \ f EX-CASTLE GUAR.D, SORE AT LOSING JOB. * 'n if\ Ml> NUMEROUS OTHER. .. 1 n • " Wir| vi/SUSPECTS ARE RE* OWE -MO ?RVZE SUSPECTS, THE FISWERMAN WHO V)OAS SEEN LEASED FOR. LACK OF PAYMASTER AND THE 6IG SANK R.OLL. £U\P6MCE. HAME IRON-CLAP

SALESMAN SAM

/skip over To “CR' uJimTer QU<\r.TV-RS t (HEAH AM MBTAH's TJ O'APS, , 'N f I 1 f < -Tell hvca 'Xu" c.q*kit- I 1 — , '\ OF CRULLER BROS. CIRCUS COLLECT/ CHIEF*. CLERK UHE WS Bl LL, PRO -J ■’—-V. 1 4ul>i / 3? ! S. o, rHT !m"| ~> TMI. 511 L ' PSSMH j. '|

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

. ”7"" ii a **** — i— SA-ftAV \ LOOTS TH gj LOW - AWFOV K \ YES SV3 YES : * BIG \DEA \VJ k HOT AK)'— HE. \S | GOR'D OM J S\R F WAKJT\K' T’OANiCE ! • OOOOH VA ■ r 1 CL J | WAY OMER HERE \ \ A ~ " ’■ % - |j

TARZAN THE UNTAMED

With the apes quieted by Tarzan's declaration that Olga was his “she,” and not to be molested, the two humans were allowed to pass unchallenged from the scene of the dum-dum dance. Some hours later Tarzan lifted the girl lightly into a great tree.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

The muffled pounding :f the apes’ dum-dum dance reached her from the distance. She recalled the time in India, long ago. when beating drums drove a tiger toward her elephant, and how her cr .ah from his back had put her near death.

—By Ahern

OUT OUR WAY

Ts Til irn / HERE \ Put \ \\ |j 1 ON .SO 1 CAM I ‘ 1 I *=>CT DOvnm Amo ) J-.RWiIIiAMS nee.u.s. it. orr., _ \Nb\W MQTv-ALRS GET GPAV. £? 1933 BY NEA SERVICE, INC. 2-3 j

HAND OF SUSTtCtON NOW POINTS TbWIARD NO "1 UMO VMOULD DARE QUESTION WeS 1 LESS TRAN H\E HIGHNESS, THE RRINCEr OF WONESTY OF A ROYAL PRtNCE? PANfiEMONIA. who WOIILD DARE ACCUSE THIS M\&WV OE ALONE, OF THOSE WHO KNEW THE COMBINATION /S=l\ S T>, TO THE SAFE, HAS FAILED TO OFFER AN ALIBI.

GNEtON) GOROOK) AGA\K> . | '&OT —HE LOEVE .SORRY 1 1 YOO Y\GHT EH \ YWGVTXiE KUOWi | COOVtS 60- CAM’t HELP YOH OASH OOT FRONT \T . 1 FORGOT TH\6'6 TH' A —SO OUT E>UT E * m’LET H\Y\ RON) ViHERE HE 6 EA6C\NifT\NiG. HAXSEViT R.UVJ J \NTO YOU V\OKES\ T'GOSH >ViXTTENi— GEE \ l'M ( INTO '\Y\ YIY6ELE 7T t—- \ HENS.'O YUH J .\L6' OY\N YET AjT (f ' TAW. ANYTH) C T' MEET _

“If I, Patricia Capby,” mused Olga, "had been killed that time, there would never have been an Olga Boresch, spy for the P.eds!” . . . Loving care and her own zest for life had pulled her through. Summer found her girlish prettiness blossoming into real beauty. \

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Her father, Captain Canby, had made exciting plans for her. Lady Cecil, his colonel's wife, invited Pat to spend several months with them in their mountain place. The Captain himseli could not leave his_ post, for an uprising threatened in a native stat*j to the north.

PAGE 13

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin