Indianapolis Times, Volume 45, Number 7, Indianapolis, Marion County, 19 May 1933 — Page 29

MAY 10, 1033

Dflpi inG Pool

bfc.in war tooav MONICA O'DAP.F h<*;p* uippr.rt hrr Btoihcr young**, brother und Mter hv ork;ng in it drug More In the small than of Ri\',ericrp Her hf-’oer BII>L Plan* to marrv ANOIE OII.LFN ■ **•• n t Angie dlvorre' her h : hanr! Monnie 1* n Th-.e With WAN CARDIGAN p ttealthv parrot-.. do not anprovr of her , SANDRA LAV ft I NCT Monnie friend, trie* to *tn Dan from her. Sandra heroine* anerv with HETTY. -aid an*. JAMES ;• r f ah*: • • i. '■ fe ir. and d;rhors;• them A few dava later <hr rerei-.e a teiephone me;, age saving hpr fa'her s* hurt Sandra hurries to him on. to find h"r*elf the victim of kidnaper* The kidnaper*, prove to be Her* .inti i.er cousin Jamr helps Sandra e a;.NOW (.<) ON WITH Till STORY CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE t Continued.) They turned left into a lane lined Ttith j/plars. The moon was rising and the landscape lay cool and sharply etched before them, like a bark drop in a theater. Black against the sky. ro •• a clumsy house, sprouted half a dozen chimneys. Dark Sinister. "Wait here," the man commanded his henchwoman. He Jumped out and went about to the back of the house, returning presently in disgruntled mood. Key's not here,” lie cried to the woman in the back seat. Sandra had an almost insane impulse'to laugh. It was so absurd, this criminal protesting innocently that he couldn’t get into a house because h** hadn t a key. The woman wrenched the car cl r,r open, evincing her intention of searching for the missing key. But instead she paused, stifling a scream. Lights were blurring the road lied of the lane. A ear was coming toward them at top speed. “Its tin cops!” yelled the man. •’Let's go" He flung himself into the driver’s seat. The starter whirred died Again and again he tried it, desperation in move. But. the car bore down on them. “Run for it!” said a hoarse voice. Kandra saw the veiled women trip over a log. Then the lights of the car shone full into her eyes. “You big—!” Sandra looked up. half laughing, half crying. But instead of the friendly blue-coated figure she had expected to see, sh? found herself staring into she eyes of James, the chauffeur. “You all right?” His voice sounded relieved. The woman, having picked herself up, now' began to run. In a trice, the long-legged James had overtaken her. wgs shaking soundly. ‘•Little sap!" Sandra heard him Baying. “Didn’t I tell you?” She could hear angry sobs, a protesting murmur. Hetty! It was Hetty who had been her captor, whose burning glance of hate had eaMn into her very flesh. ana ECOVERING her composure J\ completely. Sandra swung herself over the side of the car. "Would anybody.” she inquired coo’ly, “tell me w'liat this is all about ?” James turned. The habit of respect was strong, but even Sandra could catch the note of dislike. Grudgingly, he muttered, “You threw us out without jobs. You wouldn’t give us even a recommend. It wasn’t our fault." Sandra flushed. "She was impudent. She didn’t deserve it.” James put a restraining hand on Hetty, whose lunge forward boded no good to Sandra. The man, her original captor, had by this time disappeared, drifted Into the darkness somewhere. “You better not talk that w'ay,” James said defensively to Sandra. “You better be glad I come along in time to save you. When she” <he indicated the struggling Hetty) •‘gets a mad on. she’s a sure enough wildcat. She was bound to get even." “I’m not going to let her off like this, so easy,” panted Hetty. ’ She was sweet on you. She tried to get her hooks into you. and when she couldn't, she gave us both the air.” James intervened. "You know as Well as I do. Miss Lawrence.” we can't get jobs without we have a recommend.” “They didn't want that—they wanted money.” Sanders informed him icily. "They’ve sent a note to my father, demanding $50,000.” James groaned. "Honest, Hetty, did you do that?” The girl nodded defiant. "You little nit-wit!” He whirled on her. "Do you know what a mess you can get us into? You and that no-count cousin of yours." ”1 don't care," Hetty said sullenly. "I said I'd get her and I did. She’s not as smart as she thinks she is. Anyhow, we eot to go through with it now. She knows who we are and she'll get the police after us if we let her go. Don’t be such a chicken heart. Jim. She doesn't care what happens to us. Why should we care about her? She'd let us starve to death.” a a a TirERE w r as danger in the ndmevsphere. Brooding hatred. The smoke of revenge. Two pairs of eyes stared at the girl in the Paris frock. “What good is she anyway?” Hetty raved. "Never does a hand’s turn. Makes mischief wherever she goes. What right's she got to live?” Sandra saw something flash . in the darkness. She heard a muffled report. She watched, fascinated, the struggling figures. James turned his head sharply. •'Get out of here," he barked. "Run for your life. And if you tell about this night—if you get Hetty into trouble —you'll be sorry for it, that's all. Sandra ran. stumbling in the ruts, almost sobbing. Briars tore her tliin stockings and once she fell into a pool of ooze, sinking to her ankles. At last, she reached the main road, a bedraggled figure. Which way to turn? She did not know, so took the right, hoping it led toward home. Her thin shoes were hopelessly inadequate. Her body felt as if it had been beaten. Several cars passed, their lights almost blinding her. Her breath was torn from her now in gusty . sobs, every one burning her parched

j^jgyGLEYS

throat. On and on she stumbled along this road that seemingly had no turning. A* last, she heard the pur of a motor going in the same direction. She was frightened rather than relieved, hearing men's shouts. What new- horrors did this night- ' mare hold for her? "Sandra!” She heard her father’s Joyous shout just before she lost consciousness. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX DAN explained slowly, painfully. "It's like this, you see. She’s had a shock. She's not—herself. She keeps calling for me. When ? he's well enough, the doctor says it'll be all right for her to make this trip. And Dad—all the rest of them seem to think I ought to go along. Just," he hastened to add, ‘to humor her. She’s perfectly all right. It was just a bad s'hock.” ”1 see.” Monnie lifted her eyes, staring out at the fading garden. Dan rushed along. It was not like him to be garrulous. These fellows, he said, had got away. Sandra was so dazed she couldn't even describe them. They'd been foreigners, though. Hadn't talked much English—not that she could understand, anyway. She had been plucky, hadn’t she, to get away from them? "Very brave.” agreed Monnie quietly. Sandra seemed definitely the heroine of the occasion. 'Her father was on Tuis way to put the money where they asked,” Dan pursued. "He was just about wild, willing to do anything to get her back. But she wasn’t having any of that!” Dan’s eyes shone. You could see he admired Sandra's courage. "Not that I w'ant to go—for a minute,” Dan told her Later. "It ; just seems—well—the best thing. You see. Mr. Lawrence holds that big loan of Dads. This is confi- ' dential, of course. Dad wants to | stand in with him right now. Id be a pig, wouldn’t I, to hold out against him?" Again Monnie agreed. The best | thing—of course it was merely that, nothing more. No plot to get Dan aw-ay from her. She was foolish to imagine that, even for a minute. Such things were done only in oldtime melodramas. Besides, weren't she and Dan pledged to each other? This was the end of August—almost September. In January they would be married. "I’ll miss you horribly, every minute,” Dan told her on parting. She stood, facing him. her amber eyes darkened with the pain of , impending separation. Little bronze ! tendrils curled about her pearlpale face. "I'll be thinking of you, too. Dan,” she told him soberly. "Well, then—.” He was .awkwardly trying to tear himself away. “It’s early, but I've got all that packing to do. We make an early start on Wednesday. I won’t be : able to see you tomorrow night.” Her heart was like lead. It doesn’t matter.” He put his arms about her. “You're sweet, Monnie, d'ye know that? My girl!” "Don’t, Dan. Someone might see.” No one must know no one—their plans lor the future. Some , jealous fate might intervene. a u HOW big was he, how splendid, Monnie thought, watching him stride down the path. Why was it that, in spite of all his protesta- ! tions. her heart, failed her, went ! sick and faint when she thought of the impending separation? Nothing i would happen. Sandra would find that Dan’s heart was scaled against her. It was just bad luck that affairs fell out so Dan had to go to Wyoming | with the party. She went back into the house where Kay sat, mending some flimsy pink garment. Kay looked up seriously. "That Dan?” Monnie nodded. "He left early, didn't he?” "Yes. He’s awfully busy. Going I to a dude ranch on Wednesday with ; the family.” "I read about it in the News,” | Kay said coolly. She knew then j that Sandra was in the party. But j she refrained from further comment. Kay went on stitching, humming a little tune under her breath. Monnie picked up a book and tried to read, but her restlessness was acute. A pain beat at the back | cf her mind like a living thing. ! She felt sick, envious, discouraged. Sandra had everything and she had nothing. Her job was deadly, ! Always the same. She could do J bigger things, more interesting ones, : but because she was the mainstay : of the little family she dared not take a chance. She sighed and i found Kay watching her. "Don't you feel well?” "I have a headache,” Monnie said. Heartache was nearer the truth, but she would not admit it. "Take an aspirin when you go to bed,” said Kay practically. 1 Twenty-four hours more and Dan would be speeding westward away ! from her. She would have his letters, of course, but Dan’s letters never were satisfactory. When he was away from her he ; seemed to vanish completely. Or. she was a fool, she knew that, to be so apprehensive. What did a month matter? He would be back soon. "You have the fidgets,” Kay observed. threading her needle. “Why don't you toddle off and get some rest?” "Believe I will.” Kay gazed sternly at the doorway through which she had just passed. “Darn Dan Cardingan. anyway!" she whispered explosively. an a THEY heard the great news about Miss Anstice Con* the following morning. Mrs. O'Dare, i reading the Belvedere News, looked up with a little cry* of excitement and pleasure. "Girls, what do you think? Miss Anstice is an heiress! Judge Cory's sister in Boston has left her $50,000. (To Be Continued)

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

THIS IS MA3OR HOOPLB, MICE WORK, VAOOPLE. / \ INSPECTOR FLYNMJHE MaM WUO wf TWOSE WERE-STOLEM | FOUND THE STRIU6 OF PEARLS IN \> r \ tf\S C/\R, WHILE LOOKING FOR TOOLS ') LA<S ‘ u autumnTO OEPWR SOV\E ENGINE TROUBLE t J UND ™ vou WAVE > OLJT I lO KtEAlk tiNoiNt ikuubli: / ON A, COUNTRY ROAD TWO > HE NOTICED THE NMAE OF MY \ MONTHS AGO, WITH TH DRIVER, JEWELRY COMPANY IN THE CASE, J EX-CON , SHOT COLD AT V— AND THRU HIS HONESTY, VVHEEL /—WE SOLD TU' / ‘BROUGHT THE PEARLS j \ -BUS AI POLICE AUCTION TO j UP TO ME FOR n * l a DEALER HOOPUr^LUCK

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

P 2 " BOY ! THAT SOUNDS*) ....AMD I f FOR ME? FROM 3 f YEP—AND IF YOU ) WHAT 12> THERE YOU ) //• //( HURRY AMD | US ’'* TKL ALMOST LIKE A fX_ SOMETHING HOME COCOG ISLAND ? 1J GET TIRED OF IT, / A MONKEY, ■ Y A OSSIE \/ vO '''\ TAKE THAT I PAST HOUR S FAIRYTALE.../ U FOR YOU, f OH, BOY Jk VOU CAM GIVE IT Z FRECKLES ? f A A PARROT / XV* , \ P>ICD OUT OF I FEKKIES St ff r TOOHILOFTHE PM?BOT THAT TALKS < W ojT / HERE-rTS I WAP, —XT I BETCHA 1 s—. OTHER KIDS-JOST ! // s, 1 1 J n J kY* B . DEEM Cou’RE ( YOU’RE GLAD AMI MUTE? J f J? \ 0 D ® ,VING / DESCRIBING LUCKY TO )\ YOU ’RE J ( \ r J l [C \ fe x\> N 60 ° FY '/J 7 HIS TRIP TO BE AUVE / HOME! r — l/ Av H cL/U / / <••**• — a. - SS B®Tli*rN /-/aulO ***• PpjjsS *** *>, w'w* t—^

WASHINGTON TUBBS II

.'.1'.l 'IH.L — ' SAILORS, vino HAD pfel. ■ S Tp TO 00MP SHIP/ T v / ars outsmarted by tbe mate

SALESMAN SAM

S /BY Beew tedious okay, girls', rehearsal's) ( { mow ueße goim' shoppiwgl V'(T gowwa ) J ywk #J UIORK, EOT I OJAS RIOHT OVER I WOP BACK IWTo YOUR. 1 DO Tmk&S UP BROUIU' MUSIC FROM SAMS ojT rTm, MUSIC HATH OH ARMtS To DRESSfM 1 ROO^-YOU'VE DOME V b MOUTH C7R&AM // TRAIM A aiORM,TH' SAME AS v , FIME> , !0 - . O \K~jT~ sTAtkTeD SOME /Til / V c / ITJTRAUUS A SMAKE 1 . " j ‘ * LT' ' I—~7l 1 — ~7l f °* *** (j 11

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

. . pj THEV) - YOO MiSKiT 6NTOV AT YOUR EOT - BUT- ViBAT WT \S TWE STORY OUR, GOPOOO ATAEV ;BUT SERONCE , ARE. YOU 00\U& AW~ 6UESV HAS MAX MEWV CARTAS MYINDY WERE. ? “ VOWY i * REQUEST EO" ME t Os TW' V\K)GS GUARD ? AW TW' SECRECY T* TO TEW YOU tl__ r

TARZAN THE UNTAMED

Next morning as Tarzan was returning to the boruba-encircled hut. he saw the Red spy and the English aviator walking from the river. As they crossed the clearing they did not know his sharp eyes were watching them. Nor that other eyes were glaring from a clump of bushes.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

Neither could Tarzan SEE the crouching, hidden creature. But he KNEW it was there and what it intended doing. A slight movement of a single twig had told him. A faint breeze brought to the ape-mans sensitive nostrils the recognition of aheeta*

—By Ahern

OUT OUR WAY

TT“ T : T \ / \ Or'.CtLiS. \ I VMHSD*aiT YOU WOU.ER, \ / WE'LL MAviE. BRimC-t \ j PaW? 10 a ePuMJr YOU ) / To BE GETTisj' \ A TcCTHPicK, \\ A ° C T UEA^p. a fcT" A KIG.©ROOka- \ TOO . OFF TA [4 A TOOTH- / Tael g>tqaw<=, broom . VMHU.E j V rc<amv\na ys / ' APE GETTiKa I V YOU PE OuT J Nrj TOO SHORT j || (OH.I vTnsiOA \ ) \ -to -rw ~TTS ■

(f\ MD, BY THE Time THt HATCH COYEP.S APE ff NOW, BLAST Y&, BACtf TO WORXH REMOVED, PANAMA \5 FAR, FAR BEHIND. j AN’ IF’M HEARS ANY GRUMBLIN'/ ME ■ u^i —1 "P 1 " ' j"j l handsome buttercups, i'll take a - | V cat-o'-n\re-tails tone. —f '

( THE OPENING SCENE of TW\S oww —DO INTIMATELY .WE \S MY BEST FRIEN.O. ANO SWAW INE SAY , DRAMA ,FARCE , YOU KUOIY BEFORE IGO AMY FURTHER . L tLANT TO NEITHER ,OR BOTH IS MISTER X ASSURE YOU THAT HE HAS NOT THE LA\D IN THE IMPERIAL. J MEAN , SLIGHTEST ViNOINVEO&E OF VAY PRESENCE PALACE OF THE KING OF m TH' WERE—NOR OF THE MISSION ON 1 ■ \ —

The panther waited for the two moving slowly toward him as slowly and as helplessly as Ko-ta, the tortoise. Tarzan called to them to stop. Surprised. they looked in the direction from which the voice had come; then saw him drop lightly to the ground and advance,

—By Small

—By Edgar Rice Burr:;v;;hs

“Come slowly toward me! ’ he called. "If you run. Sheeta will charge. They obeyed, wondering w T hat was the danger. “Who is Sheeta?" askett Roger. For answer. Tarzan hurled Bara s carcass to the ground and leaped quickly inward them, hit eyes looking past them.

PAGE 29

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Marlin