Indianapolis Times, Volume 44, Number 254, Indianapolis, Marion County, 3 March 1933 — Page 19

MARCH 3,1033

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BEGIN lirßf: TOD Ay JANET HILL and ROLF CARLYLE hav<* barn encased imort a year They hvr p.;? on their marrlaKP beca it,e Janet ln.l*ts thev must have *SOO in a iaylnrv amount fir*-. Rolf enjoys spending money and the Ttsriel economy nrre ar,v to save this amount is and. ttetil to him Janet works a* secretary to BRUCE HAMILTON advertising manasrr of Every Home Magazine and Roll Is employed at • n advert ing agency. Jane’, derpiv in love. Is not suspicious tfhen Rolf begins to make excuses for hot coming to see her. One night he breaks an engagement with her. MOLLIE LAMBERT, who lives across the hall, tells Janet 'he has seen Rolf entering a th.ea'er with another girl. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER SIX (Continued) It wasn’t easy for Janet to begin. Rolf’s presence, after that miserable day, was so comforting she wanted to forget everything else. Bhe wanted to, but she couldn’t. A moment of hesitation and then Bhe made a brave start. Her voice didn’t sound just right. Muffled, sort of. She noticed this and tried to correct it. “I—l guess it will sound silly, Rolf, but—it’s something—somebody said. I had to ask you about It. Last night—you know you said you were going to a wrestling match. Somebody told me they saw you at the Liberty.” •’Who said that?” “It was—Mollie.” ' Mollie? You mean that girl at the, house where you live?” Janet nodded. She never had been more miserable in her life. Trembling she went on, “She said you were with—a girl ” ‘Oh! And because some dumbbell wants to carry tales !” The girl interrupted. She had ..topped and was standing motionless. ‘‘Then it's true,” she said, her lips scarcely moving. ‘‘You—were there?” Carlyle's voice rose angrilv. "What If I was!” he demanded. ‘‘Ls that uny crime? We might as well settle this thing right now, Janet. You know as well as I do our engagement doesn’t mean anything?” f CHAPTER SEVEN JANET did not seem to hear what he was saying. “Then it’s true!” she repeated. ‘‘Oh, Rolf—you were there!” ‘‘Well, I'm not denying it. I don’t see that it’s anything to make such n fuss about, though. Is there anything wrong in going to see a show once in a w'hile? For Lord sake, Janet, what’s the use of pretending? Things can’t go on this way—” “No,” she agreed. ‘‘They can’t go bn this way. He looked at her, surprised at the quiet tone. Rolf hated scenes, as do all men. Was Janet really going to be sensible about this? ‘‘Listen,” he said more kindly, ‘‘l know I said I was going to the wrestling match. Shouldn’t have said that, I suppose. But I didn’t want to—well, to hurt your feelings. ‘‘Don’t you see, Janet? You know as well as I do that our engagement doesn’t mean anything. You don’t want to get married. If you did, we’d have been married months ago. You think more of that job of yours than you do of me.” She was listening now. He saw that her eyes had filled with tears. ‘‘How can you say that?” she interrupted. There was hysteria mingled with the protest in her voieg. “It Isn’t true, Rolf! Oh, you know it Isn’t!” So there was to be a scene, after all. The young man frowned. “I don’t know anything of the sort,” he said shortly ‘‘But I guess you were right about it. I can see now we’d never have made a go of it. You and I are different, Janet. We don’t even like the same things!” The girl started to speak, but whatever she meant to say was lost In a half-escaping sob. ‘‘You never care if you’re having a good time or not,” Rolf went on. ‘’Well. I do. I like to get out and go places, sec things and know what’s going on. Sitting around home evenings gives me the creeps! “Work all day and save your money—that’s all you think about. Well, what’s the use? We’ve tried it for almost a year now and it doesn’t work. It never will!

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‘■We could go on this way for years and we’d never be any nearer getting married than we are today. It’s because you don’t really want to marry me.’’ a a a JANET had found her voice. The words sounded a little queer, not quite natural, but she said quickly, ‘‘l didn’t know you felt this way, Rolf. Why didn’t you tell me? I thought we were having good times ‘‘Good times? Sitting through movies every’ one else in town has seen six months ago, dancing in cheap chop suey joints, bus rides—well that’s not my idea of a good time! What does it get you? Nothing! All the pennies and nickels you and I save will never make us rich. 1 tell you, Janet, it’s no use!” “But you used to say you liked all those things! The tears were welling up in her eyes again. Perhaps it was because Carlyle felt a tinge of guilt, perhaps it was because he knew he was not blameless, yet refused to admit it, that he answered harshly. “If I said that. I didn't mean it. I'm telling you the truth now.” They had been walking along a quiet cross street. At the intersection, not a dozen yards ahead, the street led into a brightly lighted avenue. Janet could rot bear the thought of those lighti. She halted. The sudden anger that flared in her voice was almost as much of a surprise to the girl herself as it was 1.0 Rolf. “So you're telling me the truth!” she exclaimed. “Then why don't you tell me about that girl you were with last night? I supposed when you were so busy Sunday you were with her, too. “Oh, you needn’t go on explaining! I understand. You liked to spend your evenings with tne before you met her. She’s the one who’s changed your mind about—about everything!” “That’s not true. I mean—” “Dont try to tell me what you mean! And don’t go on trying to explain, either. I wouldn't believe you, no matter what you said! Why should I? After the lies you’ve told me—” “Aren’t you making yourself rather ridiculous? Do you want the whole street to hear you?’ a a a "T DON’T care who hears what I’m saying! ” White-faced, chin raised defiantly, Janet met his eyes. "I don’t care if the whole world knows. I wouldn’t marry yon now —not for anything. Not after the things you've said, after the things you’ve done. I—oh, I never want to sec you again. Never. As long as I live.” As suddenly as her anger had come, it spent itself. Tenderness swept over her face. “Oh, Rolf!” she cried in a voice that was lowpitched, frightened. “Oh, Rolf!” The young man’s tone was frigid. “If that’s the way you feel about it,” he said with exaggerated politeness. “I guess I’d better say goodnight. You can get your car at the corner here.” Janet made her voice as cold as his. “I’m not going home,” she said. “I’m—l’m going to have dinner downtown. Here. Here in this restaurant.” They were in front of an eating place. It was a restaurant Janet never had entered, quite an ordinary looking place. Food was the last thing in the world that she wanted then, but the pretext would serve as well as any other to get away. She must get away from Rolf! This hideous quarrel couldn’t go on. She wanted to get away, yet with her whole soul, she wanted to stay, too. Not with the cold-eyed, unsmiling Rolf who was looking at her, but with that other Rolf who had been affectionate and adoring. Couldn’t he see she hadn’t meant those terrible things she had said? Wouldn't he understand this was all a mistake? Ho was speaking again. “Then I’ll leave you,” he said. It might have been any stranger using that clipped, formal tone. For just the fraction of a second, the young man paused. For just the fraction of a second Janet’s eyes raised hopefully. Then with a quick gesture Rolf touched his hat brim. “Good-night,” he said, and was gone. a a a SHE stood where he had left her for several moments. She put one hand to her face and brushed away the tears. She did the same thing again without realizing that she had done it. A man and a girl were coming toward her and Janet saw that the girl looked at her curiously. Why not? People didn't stand in the middle of the sidewalk on Lombard street wiping tears from their eyes. People who were sensible didn’t do such things. No wonder that girl was staring at her. Pressing her lips together tightly. Janet turned and entered the restaurant. She found a seat at the side of the room. A waitress, short and stout and with very pink cheeks, handed her a menu card. “Would you like the special dinner?” the waitress asked glibly “Veal steak with hashed brown potatoes, string beans, combination salad and choice of dessert.” “Janet nodded. “Yes,” she said. “That will be all right.” ‘•Coffee to drink?” “Yes. Coffee.” The waitress disappeared and returned with the food. Fifteen minutes later she was back again. “Is there anything wrong with the steak?” she asked. “Don't you like it?” Janet looked down at her plate. She had not eaten so much as a mouthful. “There's nothing wrong with it." she said. “I'm—l'm just not hungry.” (To Be Continued)

OUR HOARDING HOUSE “

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

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SALESMAN SAM

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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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TARZAN THE UNTAMED

After the kidnaping of Pat from Roger Cecil’s motor car, the young Englishman and his mother raced hour after hour until they arrived at India's capital. Here, after attending to the nerveshattered Lady Cecil, Roger sought news of Pat’s

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

Grief stricken, he found that the brave officer was to be buried this day with full military honors, befitting a hero who had given his life in His I Majesty s service. He learned of the troops’ successes on the frontier.

—By Ahern

OUT OUR WAY

If “Taste. rr, ma -go on, Y / i-uva-weu. - x Y~ if WAMT WOO tb SEE HOW \ CAM SEE iTS GOODjrf CrOCO lT \S , TER -J'S WiOS \ -r LOOWS verv gooo! II COOWim' rr OM A BOMFIRE, , I X kmow \T e- rr WITH MO COOV< BOOMER mota'm’! \ \_OOUS-vjH- oeuoous, 'TIRu/ |T—WA\T u\- I G\T \ \ OcT 1M MOT HOMOR^/ 11 this Piece, o’ out - x l \ r\ght mow x cam / fH TOLI Them V6OS TO OuT <=>TPRtN I \ < ELL \-r4 GOOO ,THO./ gg& IT With ST'CWS , BoT-V4ELL, j ■ — —__—^ I COOPcE SPCQS^LS^, LE-TTINGr GOOD ENOOGH ALONE

Y% 14 | #s/ \ * NEVER THAW HIM j PLEASE, YOUR l-UGHWESS, I doNNER •BLtTZEN 1 I Hfctr/ \ BEFORE, AN' HEETH / POT'S NO VAY TO Ulll kT PONT YOU KNOW TAKE HIM CAOVE INTO AtREAT A BROTHER BROTHER, ^ NC&

f “I T ( w ; PAYTOM,\ WANT VOO TO CONTWiUE ( YOU ARE TO VAARE THESE 1 REST yin TO CALX BOCTVS, ASYINsG HER - YES CAXXS AT HAXF HOUR I ASSURED y W\ WHEN) \T Yi\XX BE POSSIBLE P" S\R. | INTERUAXS ONT\X SHE J\ S\R _J A

The British were steadily pushing back the fanatic natives to the gate*, of the Maharajahs own city. Roger had strong suspicions that, somehow, the Maharajah was responsible for the mysterious disappearance of the girl he loved. .4

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs 4

He determined to find out. When nineteen, in England, he had learned to pilot his own airplane. Now his pleadings and influence obtained him a commjadon with the "Crimson Squadron”—those daring aViators fighting on the battle front.

PAGE 19

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin