Indianapolis Times, Volume 44, Number 297, Indianapolis, Marion County, 22 April 1933 — Page 11

APRIL 22, 1933.

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BEfilN HI Ri: TWHY MONICA O'DARF. erf" 70, and r.f'ir to one of Brlv'cleres for* ;r,r-. Wonn> works In a <lr >e lore, hfipins to support her MOTHER her vonnaer ter KAY. and her brother. MARK An nlner brother HIM, i. a trarr.Ee tnernsnlc. The o Dsrei have aeen better f*vs Dan Cardiean cometi back from the city and doe* not seek ilwnlt out at once. she )* unhappy Dan arri*. e* >in*xnecteriiv as Monnie 1* v.ashir.a the •upper diti.es and they eo out rtdtr.a. A’ a dancintr place they encounter CHARLES Et-STATE mysterious and handsome newcomer :n town with SANDRA LAWRENCE a u>eal heiress NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER TWO (Continued) 'TpHE look Dan bestowed upon ■*- her was baffling in its hidden quality. He said easily, “Not unless your mothc, sends me. Or wouldn't you like to go for a ride? Just out to Mill Creek road and back—” Unaccountably, the girl’s heart lightened What did it matter, after all, whether Dan fibbed to her about the time of his arrival? He was here, just as she had dreamed. That was all that counted. “I'll dash upstairs a minute and fix my hair,’’ elv murmured confusedly, and vanished. As she traced the outline of her mouth with a little raspberry colored stick and powdered her nose, Monnie could hear the rumble of Dan’s voice, talking to her mother. Her despair of half an hour ago had lifted. She felt cheered. Anything might happen. Anything could. Was she a fool to stake so much on h°r hopes of Dan? Why couldn't she care for Sam Merriweather or any of the others who dropped into the drug store, eager for a brief chat with her? Why had she fastened her affections on any one so far above her as Dan Cardigan? Well, she had done it and it was too late now to go back coldly over the progress of her feeling for Dan. Love was like a prairie fire. Once lighted, it swept on madly, heedless of what it destroyed. “Good girl. That didn’t take long,’’ Dan approved, smiling down at her. “Don’t be late, dear,” her mother warned. Now he was helping her into the low-slung car. The door slammed. The motor purred. “Cold?” Dan was looking down at her as they flew along. She shook her head and laughed. “Os course not. It’s a beautiful night. Just like summer.” She felt happy now as she always did when she was alone with Dan. They talked a little —desultory talk. Dan drove fast. In the flashing lights before they reached the edge of town; Monica could see his handsome profile. How splendid he was! What did it matter if he had been driving with Sandra that afternoon and had not told her about it? “I thought we’d drop in at the Cabin for a bit and dance,” Dan announced casually. Monica felt a momentary flash of disappointment. Os course, it would be lovely to dance with Dan. Just to be seen with him was a matter for pride. But it was grand, too, being alone together. However, she said lightly, “That would be fun.” She stifled her conscience. Mother didn't like her to go out to the Cabin, a harmless enough appearing road place some ten miles out from town. Os late rather unpleasant reports had drifted back to Belvedere about it. a a tt THE red stucco roof of the Cabin came into view presently and they heard the muffled beat of jazz. Lights streamed out from the casement windows, behind the panes of which a few waiters could be seen, hurrying to and fro. “Don't know why they call this place 'the Cabin,’ ” muttered Dan jovially. “It looks for all the world like a near-Spanish bungalow.” He helped her out of the car, and she smoothed her frock, glancing down at it doubtfully and wishing she had changed to her blue crepe. Oh, well, it didn't matter! There were a few couples solemnly gyrating on the dance floor. Monica assured herself, after a swift

TMT BY BRUC& CATION

IT is hard to pot a look at the real personality of Marie Antoinette. The revolutionists called her a compendium of all the vices, and the royalists, after the Bourbon restoration, saw her as a saint who could do no wrong; and for most of us she is a cardboard figure, bright, tinseled--jand unreal. Stefan Zweig wings her to life in “Marie Antoinette: the Portrait of an Average'Woman:" and it is his subtitle that gives the key to her character. She was, he says, an average woman —and that was her tragedy. Fate put her in a place where she had to be a great ruler, a second Maria Theresa, and the job was beyond her. She had the faults of the average woman, and in her position those venial faults became high crimes. Not until she was lodged in the Conciergerie. awaiting the guillotine, did her real greatness awaken; and then it was too late. Mr. zweig absolves her from the calumnies of the revolutionists. She was woefully indiscreet, frequently rather silly, he says, but never loose or depraved. But he insists that the royalists are equally wrong in their appraisal of her; she had one lover, the Swedish count, Fersen. and she gave him the love and passion that Louis XVI could not arouse in her. And Fersen served her at the risk of his neck, and their love affair is one of the great romances of history. "Marie Antoinette” is an uncommonly fine biography. The April choice of the Book of the Month Club, it is published by Viking for $3.50.

WRI GjLE "^C^oUM LOOK FOR THE REDfAPE OPENER

survey, that no one she knew was present, and was consequently relieved. The man who owned the place, a thick-set, cheerful looking Italian, led th-m to a table by a window, supplied them with menu cards and left them. Dan turned to her, and Monxrie’s heart missed a beat. For the first time she saw the old Dan in' that glance—the humbly worshiping Dan who had first said to her summer before last, “I'm falling in love with you, girl, d’ye know that” Yes. Dan was looking at her again in that way. There was no mistaking that. Her pulses began to pound. He only said in rather commonplace fashion. "Missed you. Like the very devil.” She strove for the light touch. It would never do to let him know how much she had missed him. Never, never! Gallantly she said, “I’ve thought of you a lot, too.” Dan set his jaw in an ominous ' way he had. He demanded, “Is that all you've got to say about it?” Monica could have laughed aloud, could have sung for pure joy at his fierceness. • All?” she asked demurely. “That's a lot. This is a small place, you know, and I miss my—my friends.” tt a tt SHE gave him an impish smile. Dan glowered at her, his blue eyes fairly crackled at her under his long lashes. “What have you been doing with yourself all winter? I suppose you've got a trail of young men from here to High Falls.” This wasn't quite the note Monnie had expected him to strike. It was all very well for Dan to think she had a string of beaux, but she didn’t like to see him so hospitable to the idea. So she said lightly, “We-11, Sam’s been around a lot, you know. He's nice and I like him. And that new man’s in town, you know.” Her tongue ran on. She couldn't help it. “What new man?” Dan demanded. Monnie felt panic. What was it Kay had spoken of at supper that very evening? Oh, yes, Charles Eustace. Kay had said he was goodlooking—the Gary Cooper type. “There’s Charles Eustace,” Monnie told Dan glibly. “He’s from New York. He’s living at the old Waterman place.” She didn't say, actually, that she knew him. But she gave that impression. “Oh, that chap!” Dan used a disdainful tone, but Monnie knew he was annoyed, and rejoiced in the knowledge. “He's very good-looking, don’t you think?” she asked, her amber eyes limpid and innocent. Their waiter, arriving with a laden tray, interrupted the discussion. “I didn't know you liked that type of chap,” Dan observed a few moments later over his club sandwich. He moved his chair closer to hers, touched her arm. “Monnie, say you haven’t —” he began in a low. intimate tone, quite different from any he had used that evening. The girl turned to him, her heart in her eyes. "Hello, there!” cried a gay voice. “Don't let us barge into the party. We're just stopping to say howdy.” With resentment in her heart, Monnie looked up into the piquant face of Sandra Lawrence. Sandra was charmingly and fashionably dressed in an exquisite costume of pale green silk. Dan sprang to his feet. In an instant’s flash of perception Monnie saw that the encounter was not entirely unexpected. Behind Sandra stood a tall, dark stranger. Dan interposed, “You know Mr. Eustace, Monica?” Charles Eustace looked from one to another and bowed without speaking. CHAPTER THREE INSTANTLY Sandra took charge of the situation. Reluctantly, Monica admitted to herself the older girl's charm. Sandra was pretty bossy with both of the men—with Charles Eustace whom she adressed formally, and with Dan, whose first name, of course, she employed. “Fancy finding you two here,” Sandra drawled, pulling off her white gloves and settling herself in a chair opposite Monnie and next to Dan. Her long-lashed gray eyes flickered an instant over Monnie’s simple frock. For the briefest possible moment, Monnie had the sensation that Sandra was coolly disliking her. Nonsense! Sandra had been a good friend to her all this last year, had gone to some trouble, actually, to be nice to her. “I’m imagiing things,” Monnie decided, giving herself a mental shake. None the less, it galled her to find that Sandra was calmly annexing Dan and that he was permitting it. The color flamed in Monnie’s face. Sandra was talking to Dan in a low, intimate tone, not to be heard above the orchestra's bleat. Monnie turned to find Charles Eustace’s gaze full upon her. He asked, “Care to dance?” She rose, and, with the barest word to the others, slipped into his arms. How tall the man was! And what enormous shoulders he had! He seemed actually to dwarf Dan, who had always, heretofore, seemed Apollo-like in his proportions. She was grateful to him. He danced easily and well and Monnie’s small slippered feet followed his steps smoot hily. Once he spoke. “Sorry I don't do these new stunts.” She glanced up at him to find he was smiling and indicating the performance of two or three young couples dancing absorbedly in the center of the floor. Cheek to cheek, brow to brow, they revolved to the music. Now and then they would break apart and. with arms about each other's necks, walk forward slowly wearing the rapt expressions of sleep walkers. (To Be Continued)

OUR HOARDING HOUSE

■kE-SAR? THAT GOSH—I SUNKTU' NOSE^ HME > IS IT C IN ' TW,< = BOOK, AN KSRGOT OCK IN THE* ALL A'BOUT YOU, MAJOR? IT UwV BESIDES, (T WOULD'VE WHY WAS JUST TAK\NG OFP IU’ LOG ' WM6N yoU n > FOR AN HOUR, AFTER] COMFORTABLE^ ■DRAT IT, LAD, WHY J | ID BETTER GET ON '' ) AROUSE ME Q f j TU' OLD GRAY MARE I I WAS GOING TO A ) fLj AN' RIDE OUT TO TH' Ah AND MIDNIGHT / ' v MILL,BEFORE HE CH AT TMt OWLS S \ TUMBLES THAT I SVx-CV' CLUB n \ SET THAT CLOCK /t** v PEG 0 S.PAT.OFF. TThT? *=> t/// /T V * © 1933 BY NEA SERVICE. INC. I ''/ft, fft

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

fTC^TTTNn 0 -ni, 11 / f WE'LL GET IT, Too!! THE MAN T GOOD WIGHT//') BUT How CAW VIE lIN OUR. SPEED BOAT?) f £>S! UE CMOS), CAPTAIM... GET TO HER HIM, AH'THAT'S W/ HE DIDN'T WANT ANY- f> TIME BOMB SET ID EXPLODE \WUckt VfE HAVE TO !IN TIME J\ U_L HAVt 70 ONE BUT ME TO kNQW WAS ABOARD... 1 3iuo SET *ACk TO A 1 ? J\ L SWIM ACROSS THIS INTO THE LCCkSD IN, HE'S THEBE WOW, AN* \ HOURS ...THE NELLIE ALWILL GO OP Ls, WER '* \ P BIAC * ..... WATEO^

WASHINGTON TUBBS II

EEWARP WEROVC THERVVTHETVA To THE-PUINTH AMD TO P(VNT)6MONt^ < A RRETHENT TO NOO f\ RING WtTH THE ROYAL CRETUT. I APPOINT TOO DUKE OF THE <aßf\W> CANAL, KNtGHT OF THE GARTER/ AND , 1 KNIGHT OF THE CORTHEDj

SALESMAN SAM

'fTEResTiNG-V|• iKioeeos! Y wo(U,goit ser vgddiwl towy, N\ kwoou (TstßiA ■?C TUaTs clhaT mhkee? 11 so)! QttrriG&L-Uf£\ AM-nooos sayophomes hadn't been imWeo\ RftßEl .. —THE SAVO- v iw NERO'S-rure.l

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

ootoow mav<\R)& fa % ) xZx. * y \ LoviE To EOOTS, SOFfcTWNG HAD W'/ ifif/ C £y \

TARZAN THE UNTAMED

Two warriors appeared before the girl's vision now. and soon set up a large stake beside the one already in place. Others entered the hut that Zu-tag, the ape, had been watching. They come out, dragging two captives.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

One of them the girl recognized as her protector and the other as an Englishman in an aviators uniform. This, then, was the reason for stakes! “Come!” she said to Zu-tag, as If ate ware u&iag_to oop of her ow&Jg&dL

—By Ahern

OUT OUR WAY

l , \/ ne OOKIT LOOK' \( RE tS>— V\E IS COCkiM’ AT / / A W’ Ika GiAO \ / <=,o Glad To GEE 1/ CmE O' “frv SAD ACODEkiTS. / T CERTAiwvH V TO GEE TVV OL DAVE , wnTH .OF UFE- OL OAvE. CcajvQ am Glad I wav mou've Tears vus. t-\Ave. bee*a a Big mechanical “To SEE. WOO IGoToPimTh' Ewes OWE THAT- EWG'ViEER, >f me wady SEE.nI AGAIKJ, DAVE* WORLD, SIVJCE WOODTaimY ’ 50 EA9f GoV AN AviD LOOKikig/ WOO WORKED WE WAS LCCkW GO-LuOW! An THaT GuVS \so gooo. at a SAU 1 P*— * { wow does \T V acodemt y i matce?e sometimes i "Y , I \ 'plel to sea X Vts a sad acooemt. y — m 1 1 1 J.RWiUnvc, . Tv-VE. HAPPY FLOP. Cltt33 BY NtA SEBVtCC INC.REG. Us■ PAT. OfY. ,

f 1 DECORATE NOD VIVTH THE MEPNL OF *\ f ELL, NOVI PL \ I’LL SAN t AtA NOUR. ev)6RLAT\ATING GLORY, THE IRON CROTH, THE RECKON YOU'RE J EY-CELLEKiCY. VM'TH TH’ THVLVJEP- C-ROTH/ THE PURPLE CRETHEWT, PRETTY PROUP O’ J G MEDALS WILLS GAME T m MARMEtHT WOON, AND THE ' t YOOREELF. i \ WE AN' TH' Y 7 I’D —i <a OLDEN PVPPER. J V- -—X \ AVNREADS AvNARDED V , , -. r V \ WSSELF OBOY, AT \ jrrS&A V WAKES 13 MEDALS V'v

She swung lightly to the hut's roof below, then to the ground, keeping within the dense shadows. “If I only had some sort of weapon,” she thought, “that might give me a slight advantage against the savages! ” She turned to look for Zu-tag.

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Seeing that Zu-tag was close behind her, and believing that the other apes followed, she felt more secure. Moving cautiously, she saw the cannibals congregating about the prisoners, already being bound to the stakes. Quickly she slipped into the hut.

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—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By S rill

—By Martin