Indianapolis Times, Volume 44, Number 291, Indianapolis, Marion County, 15 April 1933 — Page 13

AHITT, 15, 1033.

y- ~r *v Laum Lou QmlLouoA^

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR (Continued) “I guess so." The maid continued to eye her with undisguised alarm. “Oh. this is terrible!" she exclaimed. “If the police come here what wall I do?” “I guess you'll have to let them in," Janet told her. She was tired now. Terribly tired. She lelt beaten, too. Now that the newspapers knew about it there was nothing more to hope for. They would print her name and probably her picture, being led away by the police. But. why did you do It?” Lucy gasped. "Didn’t you know you'd get caught?” Janet looked sway. “I didn't do it." she said, “but that doesn't seem to make any difference.” a a a '"P'HERE was a step in the doorA way, and both girls turned. Mrs. Curtis was standing there. "What is it?” she asked. “Lucy, what are you so excited about?” The maid pointed to the newspaper Janet held. “It's—that,” she said. "About Mrs. Carlyle's necklace!” * * Janet rose and handed Mrs. Curtis the newspaper. The woman uttered a low'> exclamation and then turned to Lucy. “I want all the servants to come here at once,” she said. "Tell them Immediately.” Five minutes later they trooped in—Frederick and Bertha and Lucy and lastly the cook. It was a brief meeting. Mrs. Curtis said that on no account were any of them to speak about the stolen necklace. No matter who asked, they w’ere to deny that they knew anything about it. "The matter," Mrs. Curtis said, "is In the hands of the police. I do j not want any more talk about it, and I am particularly anxious to keep it out of the newspapers. If I hear that any of you have said anything about the necklace to any i one outside the house you will be j discharged. That is all.” The maids and the cook and the chauffeur departed. Janet felt Lucy’s eyes on her and then saw her turn away quickly. Lucy, like the others, believed her guilty. Mrs. Curtis left the room, and Janet w'as alone again. Half an hour later she heard voices in the living room. Every muscle was taut but the girl remained motionless. It was Betty’s voice and her mother's. She heard the voices rising and falling. They were talking about her, Janet knew. She could not hear what they said. There was nothing to do but wait breathlessly. The sharp ringing of the doorbell brought the girl to her feet. Now! Now! They had come for her! But there was no summons. A moment later Lucy, flitting through the hall like a frightened sparrow, paused at the library door. “It’s the police!” she whispered hoarsely. CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE ' IIi'KEWAN of the detective squad IVI entered the living room, hat in hand. "Good afternoon,” he said. "Your maid said you were here, Mrs. Carlyle. Thought I might as well come over and get this thing cleared up.” "Oh, Mr. McKewan, have you found out anything?” "We’ve found the necklace.” "Oh!” The women's voices came in a chorus. Betty Carlyle was leaning eagerly forward. Mrs. Curtis was severe and rigid in her straight-backed chair. “Where did you find it?” Betty asked. "What did she do with It? I mean—?” "I’ll answer all your questions,” the detective told her. "But first take a look at this.” He reached into his pocket, drew out a small black case and handed it to her. "See if that’s your necklace.” he said. The lid of the box sprang open at, Betty's touch. Inside on a square of white satin lay a strand of pearls. Betty held them up to the light, smiling. "Os course it is," she said. "I've never seen any others with a clasp like this.” McKewan nodded. “I found them In a pawn shop." he said. "A pawn shop!” Mrs. Curtia interrupted. "I think Id better call Janet," she said. "Yes. bring her in!" Betty nodded eagerly. "I want her to be here.” "I don't believe that will be necessary,” the detective began, but Betty was already on her feet. “I'll find her," she said and disappeared through the door. She was back a moment later, cheeks flushed and eyes triumphant. Janet- followed her into the room, paused and looked questioningly toward Mrs. Curtis. "Sit down. Janet.” the older woman said. "Mr. McKewan has found the necklace." Janet saw the box lying open on the table and stepped forward. Her - pale face was suddenly transformed. "Oh. I'm so glad!” she exclaimed. "I'm so glad!" a a a BETTY CARLYLE darted a swift glance at the other girl and frowned. McKewan cleared his throat. "Well." he said, ”1 thought maybe you'd rather we talked it over in private, but if this is the way you want it, all right. The necklace was in a pawn shop down on Mulberry street. Been there nearly a week. You see, we were sure it was an amateur job so this morning, just on a chance, we checked the pawn shops. Found it in the second place we went. The fellow who runs the shop told us a man brought the necklace in last Monday.” "You say it was a man?” Mrs. Curtis asked • Yes," McKewan hesitated. "I guess there’s no reason to beat around the bush about it," he went on. "It was your husband, Mrs. Carlyle." jc "My husband?” Betty's eyes were like two angry fires. "Not Rolf! Oh, no. lie couldnt !” The detective nodded.

WRIGLEY’S--^.

LOOK FOR THE REDTAPE OPENER

"I'm afraid there isn’t any question about it," he said. ‘T’ve already talked to him. It seems there were some debts he had to pay. In a hurry. He didn't want any one to know about It.” "You mean—he admitted it?” "Oh, yes. Nothing else for him to do. He'd used another name on the ticket, but it was easy enough to trace. As soon as I talked to him he admitted the whole story. Pretty badly worried, I guess.” Mrs. Curtis had found her voice. "Oh, Betty!” she exclaimed. "My poor little girl!” "He said.” McKewan went on, "that he didn’t really mean to take the necklace. He was going to put | it back just as soon £.3 he could get the money. Said he didn't think you'd miss it. The pawn broker only allowed him S3OO on it.” Betty Carlyle was on her feet. "A thief!” she cried. “Oh, my God! Lying to me. Stealing. He's been gambling and lost again, that’s w'hat he's done. I told him the last time I wouldn’t give him another cent!” She stamped one small, spikeheeled foot. "I hate him” she cried. “I'm sick of the sight of him and ! I never want to see him again. I won't forgive him for this as long as I live. Never! Never! Never!” Over-wrought emotion had its way. Betty sank into a chair, sobbing violently. Her mother bent over her, murmuring comforting phrases, stroking her shoulder and trying to quiet her. The detective shifted uncomfortably in his chair and looked about the room. All at once he sprang forward. "She’s fainted!” he exclaimed. The two women turned. Janet Hill’s eyes were closed. Her head had tilted back against her chair and her face was paper white. McKewan said, "She ought to be lying down. Can someone get some w'ater?” ROLF CARLYLE let himself into the apartment. There was no light in the living room, grayed with dusk, but from beyond came a faint glow. He walked on until he reached the door of the bedroom, stopped on the threshold. "Well,” he said. “I didn't know whether I’d find you here or not.” Betty was surveying herself in the full-length mirror. She w'ore a black dress with a scarlet bow on one shoulder. There were no sleeves. It W'as a dress she often w’ore to dinner parties. "Why, yes, I’m here," she said coolly. “Where have you been?” Rolf entered the room. "I thought maybe you’d be at your mother's,” he said. His voice sounded strained. “I couldn’t go there, Betty—l didn’t really mean to do it! I mean—the way it looks. I thought I’d have the money back in a few days. You hardly ever wear that necklace, and I was sure I'd have it back before you’d miss it. I had to get the money to pay Tom Jamieson. Don't you see, Betty ?” She turned to meet his gaze directly. "I see perfectly!” she said. "Everything. I see that you’re a lying, sneaking, good-for-nothing, and that's all you’ll ever be. I see that you’ve lied to me and humiliated me, but you won't have a chance to do it again.” "Betty! Won’t you listen to me! I tell you I didn’t mean to take the necklace. I’ve put in the most horrible day I've spent in my life. I've been through hell. My God, Betty, I’ve said I’m sorry. What more can I do? Don't you understand what I’ve been saying?” a a a SHE moved toward him, eyes defiant, her face colorless from anger. “I understand.” she cried. "You’re the one who doesn’t seem to be able to do that. I'm getting out! Do you hear that? Getting out! I w’as a silly little fool to marry you. I only did because I’d had a fight with Van Bannister and wanted to show' him I didn't care. You didn't know that, did you? Well, it’s true. (To Be Continued)

ATEGDK A rw BY BftUCfi CATTON

A FEW years ago an inquiring young man named Hassoldt Davis set out to see the world—to see. more specifically, the South Sea islands. He had heard much about the romanc. beauty, charm, loveliness and what-not of those places, and he figured this sort of talk was largely boloney; so he went to find out for himself. Out of this little excursion has blossomed a book. “Islands Under the Wind." In it Mr. Davis tells where he went, what he did and what he learned. He started out by going to Tahiti, and after an extended stay he went on, with stops here and there, to the fabulous isle of Bali. And at first, he thought that his preconceived notions were justified. The romance of Papeete seemed pretty tawdry, the thrills seemed to be mostly faked, the charming natives seemed about as unspoiled as so many medicine show Indians. And then, bit by bit. he learned that the tall tales are true, after all. Tahiti is what they say it is, once you get your vision focused properly, Bali is like no other place on earth. Life in those places can be, in sober truth, freer, easier, more satisfying than elsewhere. And the island girls? asks the bearthless reader. Well, says Mr. Davis, don't go looking for love, because you won't find it—not the romantic, deathless kind of occidental fiction. But there is a very fine substitute available, and once acclimated you get so you think the world of ifi Entertaining and instructive, this book is retailed by Longmans, Green Cos., at $2.50.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

TME-VS SEVERAL BErEFS AW VES,DINN\-BUT I WASN'T^ ( COME- IN.UOOPLE AGIN \OU /A R AS'NG PIGEONS-“-NO—3UST C RWSIN' PIGEON?/IN THIS l) 001 N< f BIT OP EXPERIMENTAL i NE\GHBORUOOD NOW, A5 WORK FOP TWE GOVERN MENT V ( EAR AS m CONCERNED, AT l i aki nMcl . w Ql r->r> OF USING CARRIER PIGEONS*,, \ A IN THE POSTAL DEPARTMENT? ( IT WAS OFFICIAL BUSINESS' X. B aSin Jf OUT OP TWE JUR 'SDCTION J _ PEPERALWstwmN

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

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Zu-tag saw the Negroes carry the prostrate man into the hut. He recognized the brownskinned Taraangani as the strange white ape who had danced the Dum-Dum with his tribe.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

' WE'RE TAklkf AN * J BOYf I'LL SAY/ f LISTEN.' THERE \IF WE SUP FARBAG>,TALk!N‘ up, now, again l \ (??v\

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It was he who, by mastering their leader, had won the savage respect and admiration of this fierce young bull. Zu-tag rose to his full raised his face sky-ward and was about to Qpam out a savage protest and a challenge.

—By Ahern

OUT OUR WAY

( V-! } 'IIM-' l'~H7 ' T 7 ~T7 ' — \ , T woo . p _ V 6-000 MVGVAT • Wi cuw TMATS / Vvl l-W- SAY \ OFF TLvjcl \aicslw' I YISiTTm AQousiO 'M'-'AT TmE.'Y CauL A Gla/ osr-TL^T ~ VO ° Mu<s>TA ‘ Clo-a© A NO -j-| / KsitJXy BcO-/ Ei.SE Dots __ . V CAIF.F? T*-V / V ONJ ' rK ComPAvjvL, -Hme \ OONTW OO V- / vAuTPi-TPr \ KKIOWJ Me?/ if— U ll I \ MOGhBoQc, . L REG U S PAT orr. c HUH? ■■ ■■ i— ■ i ■ f* 1933 BV SgPVKt

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His ferocity being tempered with 'native cunning and caution, he decided to act instead of scream. He thought he would like to save this wonderful whit i apR from the common enemy. At first he was fSr entering the village alone.

(SIVIKkJ you A CWAKICE To JOIM MY OUTFIT.... ITS A 6000 PAVIH’ I PIC> PACLET=HARRY ORMSBY AMD h HEAR £===== HIS Yacht ARE OYER OKI THE M THAT, = NORTH SHORE..-WE CAW SHAKE 1 6ALEKJ ~ HIM DOWN FOR A HUNDRED ? f Y THousand...\nw'>' say.’ Youll K pL, Good S RICH before You know ) NIGHT!.' ! IT....VJHAT SAY ?

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But seeing how numerous were the warriors about the entrance to the prisoner's lair, it occurred to him that this was work for many rather than for or - So, silently, Zu-tag slipped away through the foliage.

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

PAGE 13

—By Williams

—By Blossei:

—By Crane

—By F "all

—By Martin