Indianapolis Times, Volume 44, Number 251, Indianapolis, Marion County, 28 February 1933 — Page 13
FEB. 28, 1933
~T~ 'T' bu Laupa Lou
REGCN Hf.Rf: TODAY JANET II ILL 1 eiißUßtd to ROLE CARLYI.E. but thfv do not ha\* no igh tnonf / to marrv Janet la aecretarv for URUCE HAMILTON, arivrrtlsin* manager of Every Home Maganne. and Rolf vorks for the Atlas Advertising Company. Janet Inal'ta they muat have ISOO In a evvinga account before they can be married. HOWARD CRES3Y another employ of the maiomni trie* to make dates with Janet, but she d.scouragt him. She hurries home from the office one Faturdav to p eprc a surprise birth- ’ dav dinner for Rolf. On the wav she sees a couple entering the fashionable Brewster hotel coffee shop and at first thinks the young man Is Rolf. Afterward lha decides she was mistaken. The dinner party Is success. Rolf fells Janet there is something he wants to talk to her about, but later evades and says It was nothing” He savs he can not -ee her next day. because he Is entertaining an out-of-town friend. Sunday proves to be a gloomy day Rolf does -n telephone Janet visits with MOLUE LAMBERT, who lives aero** the hall. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER FOUR ( Continued) “I feel lots better this morning. I'd have gone down to the corner restaurant, only I was lazy. My cold's loosened and my head doesn't ache ” "Then it’s just the time to be careful," Janet told her. "Really you shouldn't go out today. It s wet and miserable. If you stay right there in bed, you'll feel a lot better lor it tomorrow.” a a u MOLLIE helped herself to some of the crisp bacon. "A cook like you.” she said dreamily, “is simply wasted sitting all day at a typewriter. Why don't you get married, Janet?” " "Why don't you?” “Because,” said Mollie vigorously, “nobody’s asked me. That's not the reason you don’t, though. I’m telling you, Janet, if a swell guy like Rolf Carlyle wanted me to toddle up the aisle with him you can bet yu’ir bankroll I wouldn’t waste a minute i Not me! "Course It’s none of my business, but I think you're making a big mistake.” "Isn’t it a big mistake to get married when you haven’t any money?” "Plenty of people do it.” “Well—Rolf and I don't want to do things that w r ay. We're going to start right.” It was the same argument she > had used with Rolf. "We want to start right,” Janet had said over and over and he had found no answer. There was nothing wrong with the argument; it was as good as over.' But suddenly, in the midst of an explanation why it was so much better to wait and save instead of rushing heedlessly into matrimony, Janet found herself faltering. After all she wanted to marry Rolf! Last night . . . together ... at dinner in the candlelight! . . . That was what a home with Rolf would be like. Any place in the world where she and Rolf were together w r ould be gay and cheerful. And they could be so happy! Was money really so fearfully important—compared with Tiappiness? Then resolution returned. Janet shifted the conversation and sat half-listening while Mollie, who was seldom quiet, rattled on in a long description of what one of her friend's friends had seen on a trip to Chicago. Presently Janet arose to go. The last of the buttered toast had been finished, the last, Ilrop of coffee gone. Mollie had settled herself in the covers and said she might be able to Lake a nap. “Remember,” Janet told her as she paused in the doorway, “if there’s anything at all you want just knock and I’ll get it for you.” Back in her own room she set to work energetically. After all, Rolf Height telephone. He hadn't said positively that he’d spend the whole day with that friend from out of town. If he came, there were half a dozen tasks that should be out of the way first. a a a SHE began with a shampoo—brushing her hair, rubbing foamy suds into it, rinsing them out and repeating the process. The rubbing and rinsing and vigorous drying that followed took more than a half hour. Out of the process the taffy colored hair emerged a fluffy, loosely waving mass as she liked it. That was one of the advantages of having •naturally curling hair. She manicured her nails, pressed r fresh collar and cuff set, remembered the rip in the lining of her coat sleeve and set to work repairing It. Time drifted by. Outside the snow had stopped and then begun again. It was so dark in the room that Janet had turned on the table lamp. Across the alleyway she could see lights burning in the house opposite. Almost 4 o'clock now. The rooming house was unusually quiet. A radio that had been playing dance music had broken off in a discordant crash. The others in the house niust be reading, sleeping or perhaps gone out. * Subconsciously Janet knew that all day she had been listening for Rolf’s call. Several times the telephone had rung. Each time someone else had answered. She rose and moved to the window. “He won't call now,” she told herself. "Not until later. I'll feel stuffy if I stay in the house all day. Better go out and get some air.” She put on her coat and hat and high galoshes. In the hall she paused to turn the knob of Mollie’s door. The other girl, wrapped in a bathrobe, was sitting up in bed, reading a magazine. "I'm going for a walk,” Janet told „her. “Is there anything you'd like me to bring you?” Mollie shook her head. “Not a thing. Mrs. Snyder promised to send up dinner. Wasn’t that sweet of her? I don’t know when I’ve had so much waiting on. And do I love It!” "How are you feeling?” "Oh, my throat's a little sore, but otherwise I'm o. k. Be all right in the morning I guess." "11l stop in later,” Janet promised. "Sure you don't want anything?" Mollie was sure. Janet hurried •down the stairs, through the entrance hall and out into the late afternoon dusk. The chill air struck
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LOOK FOR THE REDTAPE OPENER
j her face and a snowflake brushed ! against her cheek and melted. After the first shock, the cold air was bracing. Janet hesitated, then resolutely turned to face the wind. BUM SHE walked briskly, head bent slightly forward, hands buried iin her coat pockets. Three blocks, | four blocks and she had reached Temple avenue. Here there were shops, many of them with lighted windows. Street cars clanged by and a policeman directed traffic. Pedestrians—most of them in couples—all seemed hurrying to get somewhere. Halfway down the block Janet saw a restaurant. It was a place where the food was well cooked, appetizingly served. Often on Sundays Janet ate there. It had been almost 11 when she had breakfasted and now she realized that'she was hungry. She considered entering and ordering a meal. But if she did that she might miss Rolf s telephone call. Suddenly Janet was eager to be home. If he should call and fail to reach her, he would think she had made other plans and might not call again. She turned and retraced her steps. It seemed she could not walk fast enough. Actually it was only twen-ty-five minutes from the time she | left the rooming house until she was back. There was no message on the hall table. Janet rapped at Mrs. Snyder’s door and asked if any one had called her. No one had. Well, that was all right then! She went up the stairs. Os course Rolf hadn’t promised to telephone. He had only said that he might if he could “break away early.” Janet reminded herself of this while she prepared a supper of left-overs. The supper was not particularly appetizing, but she was no longer hungry. She ate, washed the dishes and cleared them away. Six-thirty came and no message. Why was she so restless? There had been other Sundays when she and Rolf had had separate engagements. Not many of them, but still a few. By 8 o’clock Janet told herself he wasn’t going to call. To prove that she wasn’t even expecting a message, she slipped off her frock, got into pajamas and a robe. Then she crossed the hall to talk to Mollie. Anyhow, she could hear the telephone as clearly in Mollie's room as in her own. The invalid was sitting at a table writing a letter. Mollie's conversation, contrary to expectations, did not prove cheering. It devoted chiefly to the details of Cousin Evelyn's latest operation. It was to Cousin Evelyn that Mollie was writing. Janet, as soon as she could, made an excuse and came aw T ay. In the hall she was surprised to find the door of her room open. She stepped forward and felt for the light switch. In another instant the room was ablaze with electricity. Janet gave a little gasp. In the center of the room, facing her, stood a man she never had seen before. CHAPTER FIVE THE man found words first. “I —l—” he stammered, “hope you don't—l mean I didn’t mean—that is—l guess I’ve made a mistake!” Janet was clutching the pink bathrobe, holding it about her. It was surprise and not fear that held her speechless. "Who are you?” she demanded. “And what are you doing in my room?” “I guess I’ve made a mistake,” the young man repeated. His face had grown quite red. “You see I didn't know ” "But what are you doing here?” It was certainly not like Janet to use a tone like that. It wasn't like her at all. The words snapped out sharply. .Shock probably was rej sponsible for the stern way she eyed the young man. "I'm—l'm—” he began desperately. “You see I live here?” “What?” “Upstairs. On the next floor. .My name's Grant—moved in yesterday. I'm terribly sorry about this. You see when I came yesterday the woman in charge—Mrs. Snyder—showed me a room on this floor she said was vacant. I thought this was it. (To Be Continued)
7TSGDK AW •Y BRUCC CATTQN
The movie business in France seems to be just as dizzy as it is in Hollywood, if not a little bit more so. This, at any rate, is the impresj sion one gathers from a reading of "Desire—Spanish Version,” by Evelyn Eaton, a sprightly little novel which tolls of the doings of various folk who work in a big film studio in Paris. All the assorted lunacies accredited to Hollywood are to be found in this Parisian studio. We are shown ignorant and conceited directors swimming through schools of yesmen, childish actors and actresses, overworked minor officials who really get the job done and get paid in abuse, cantankerous mechanical experts, swarms of half-starved extras —the whole familiar entourage, in other words. And to make matters worse, these folk labor under the disadvantages of the Hollywood system, but they don't get Hollywood pay. The French are a frugal folk, and all except those on the very top of the heap seem to spend half their time wondering where the next meal . is coming from. The story itself is pretty thin. It ■ tells about a flop-eared violinist who tries working in the studio, gets fired, lets a script girl support him, ditches her for another woman and finally winds up as first violin in a | movie theater orchestra. Published by Morrow, the book ;sells for $2.
OUR HOARDING HOUSE
T YOU SEE, JASON-TECHNOCRACY tjfUf YO' ‘BETTER BA.L& OUT GB INTENDS TO CURTAIL WASTED DPT "BED B&FO' MISSUS P ENERGY-*-FOR INSTANCE,THEPES J HOOPLE STEAM'S UP CHER f ) WASHING WINDOWS-SCIENTISrsN I SHE'S TOTIN'A HEAVY ‘A—AND INVENTORS,SUCH AS MYSELF, ) - \ CARSO OB GROUCH AN SHEfe r WOULD INVENT A TRANSPARENT } ( MIGHT FIS6ER YO' IS A^/ MATERIAL, MANUFACTURED VERY H \ NICE DOCK TO UNLOAD //fffS CHEAPLY, TO TAKE THE PLACE OF- | \ IT ON- 11 %\ WINDOW GLASS-WHEN A WINDOW J 1 YOWZA P N /Y/U OF HOOPLEFANE BECOMES SOILED, f / AT EAS>Et IHCREG. U. S. PAT. Onffif j
FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS
V GEE-YOU ) ABSOLUTELY/ i have ) [•JVERJOYED MEAN TO Y SPENT A LIFETIME PER- \ AT THE SAY THAT J FECTING IT —AMD NOW ) THOU6HT WILL TELL \MY LIFE'S AMBITION Al OF YOU 'WHECE y I£> GOING TO BE . VISITING TREASURE. J REALIZED — T'S lonely TOO GOOD to be Xf/f
WASHINGTON TUBBS II
C Y A NOTE OF TWIS, BAXTER.. \ /nES, V \ / HENC£FORTH, TRUMPETERS WILL BE J MY \ y posted at -rue gate to announce J V lord. J WOt ' ‘tzfr, 1 s'■ ) \Aa THE CASTLE GATE AND CROSS Twe COURTVARD nnmotvced.
SALESMAN SAM
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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES
( ; t ; ; : y DAW6ONF DAH \T GOES AG\N V'tl AHVL DECLA'A T GOODN\S<=>EViAA MAM AW \SKi't DONE NOTW\N' 'S>UT GALLOP 10 0.1 0.0001,. ooaull'. ~01 in .
TARZAN THE UNTAMED
Softly the door closed behind a slender Hindu woman, swathed in veils that left only her large dark eyes uncovered. A moment the mysterious visitor stood silently regarding Fat. Then she came otoea* to the girt.
THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES
She spoke rapidly in a low, musical voice, using excellent English. “I am the Ranee,she said. “At my peril, I have come to warn you. Though I am the Maharajah’s favorite wife, nothing pbuld sara me IX be knew my errand!”
—By Ahern
KNOW, A AH BUT f AVAST/ COCOS~I ! LOT OF PEOPLE \ DIDN’T HAVE- OM OUR ) HAVE TRIED ALL (AN INSTRUMENT 1 STARFSOADn ) KINDS OF WAYS ) LIKE MINE \ / / <|\ TO FIND THE < THATS WHY/ TREASURE ON YT jjijjh — COCOS ISLAND, < |{j| \ YVV\
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OUT OUR WAY
/ WELL,ILL SWEAR,CUOIY ? \ /suH MEYER?VUH \ -THoee. OV_CLpP\MOE MAOtS \ l MEYER SAW A FEaEP \ ST7AMD 6ACV< -fiLLONE of \ VSIORK HARD PEP? I —"TtAQSTI Ct>Oß MOV-EEx pAWIS 1 KAOMEY , AM* SOKAEQoDY OF Rum 'em away from iT. eee>4 arcjmd J ' A x mejer saw a thimct , ALMO ST HUM AN • O 1933 bt ne* SERVICE. me BEG, u. S. PT OfT. J-
\ ROTS. YOU WILL HANS. TWEM /MS J ELSE/ MY / AMP CABBAGE, BAXTER, IS V THROVJN VMTO TWE SEA. LORP. J LCP.D? / UNBEARABLE. WANE THE CASTLE - — 1 j uL p.T orr '.i .' IQ* oiH.Toi ' -Ih' * .
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Astonished, Pat started to speak, but the woman cautioned silence. “Only breifly can I stay. Listen carefully. Never shall you leave the palace alive! This I learn through my spies. I dare not tell you more.”
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“You will know soon enough. I know that women of your race prefer death to dishonor. Take these. Either will set you free, when the time comes, from the hateful fate awaiting you." And she helcg forth something she wished Pat to take.
—By Williams
—By Edgar Rice Burroughs
PAGE 13
—By Blosser
—By Crane
-By P—ill
—By Martin
