Indianapolis Times, Volume 45, Number 16, Indianapolis, Marion County, 30 May 1933 — Page 19

MAY 30, 103S

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BEGIN HERE TODAY MONME O’DARE. twsutifu! and 5 Wt, sail* for Europe with her old Intnd. MISS ANSTICE. COREY trying to forget DAN CARDIGAN, who Monnte bcI her for SANDRA LAWRENCE. in fj'-w York Monnle enof, intered ARTHUR MACKENZIE, a I Bllddle-dpwl man of wealth She meet* 0* 1 • bn;,t ■-■■■■ I • Obv.ougiy admires her Monnte t poor and the trip Is a Cinderella .and et - tr>- for her Back home she has left her mother sister and two brother' and CILARLES EUSTACE, hi. :.<i- o: .<• newcomer to town who La paid her attentions. Meanwhile Sar.tira is striving to win Dan and taking advantage of Monnie'* absence. NOW GO ON WITH TIIF. STORY CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR (Continued! The dinner progressed from one course to another. Wine stewards rani" and went, jangling their keys, poi.ii..' pale colored liquids into ci” * . stemmed glasses. The railr< id p;<v .dent drank, unbent and talked. .M :,::.-; thought him very pleasant, a Ith - ugh grim. Harris Fanev y drank and grew more monot tab. Corinth drank and laughed a irat deal, her lovely mouth twisting cynically as she spoke. Monnie leir, the glass at her plate untouched. Sh<* needed no such spur to make the party exciting. The ■ let ip 1’ f was enough for her—the beautifully gowned women, the imperturbable men of affairs, the v. 11-t:.-nned servants moving to and fro II"r eye flashed a message to Miss Anstice, “This is life—at last T am seeing it. The Great World' ’’ Mi Anstice flashed back, word-lcs-.lv “You are right. Make the most of it.’’ tt a a RECKLESSLY. Monnie decided that she would take whatever came on this adventure as a gift from the gods. She would be young only once. This was her golden Opportunity. It was in this mood she rose with the others from the table. “Some of us are playing contract in the salon,' Mackenzie said to her in a low- tone. “Do you care to join?” Monnie looked up, smiling. "I’m afraid I'm not clever enough. I don’t play well.” His tone was relieved rather than , ©th. rwise. “Good. I'm not playing myself. Will you take a turn On the deck with me?” She assented and, after seeing Miss Anstice comfortably established at a table, strolled with her host on the almost deserted promenade. It was a clear, cool night of high winds and friendly stars. Belvedere'and all her old problems Boomed far away. “You like—all this?” His long arm included the dancers within, the rhythmic pound of the unseen band, the slip-slip of feet. “Oh, yes.” “Nothing to be desired, eh?” Monnie withdrew her eyes, and a sigh that was like a stab escaped her. “No—l wouldn't say that.” The older man eyed her keenly. “Never the time and place and the loved one together’—” he said ruminatively. “I suppose that’s it,” admitted the girl ruefully. Then she turned aside in embarrassment. How easily this lynx-eyed man had guessed her secret. Did she, then, wear her heart on her sleeve for all to Bee? But Arthur Mackenzie evidently dismissed the subject. “Do you know,” he began in a low voice, “that you were quite the sensation In the dining room tonight?” Monnie stared. Surely this man was making fun of hei\ “But I am perfectly serious,” he Insisted. “Corinth war green-eyed —didn't you notice?—and everywhere people were whispering, *Wlio is the golden girl?’ ” CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE DAN muttered. “I don’t know why I did that. Sorry.” Sandra laughed a bit shakily. “We're —just crazy I guess.” she said lightly. “Never mind, Danny, don’t take a kiss so seriously. It isn’t the first time—” “Guess I won't come in after all,” the man told her awkwardly. Darn it all, he didn't want to get In deep with Sandra, he told himself. It was just one of those things. She was a nice kid and all that. “Os course you will,” Sandra announced m a bright, matter-of-fact voice. “Nothing’s happened. Don’t be absurd, darlin’. K We’re friends, always and forever, aren't we?” Dan nodded, feeling foolish. But what else was there for him to do when she put it on that basis? Sheepishly, he followed her into the softly lighted sitting room where a tray with glasses and sandivches was neatly laid “That new maid is a jewel,” Sandra chattered on. “Pauline. Did you notice her at dinner, Dan?” She established him in the big chair, seating herself opposite on a low green couch whose color provided a most effective background. “Now this is cosy,” Sandra curled her small feet under her, little girl . fashion. Dan, with a glass and a plate on the small table beside him, relaxed in the atmosphere of friendliness and ease. “Nice people tonight,” he commented. “I liked them.” “Oh. did you, Dan?” Sandra seemed enormously pleased. “I’m so glad—because they liked you. too. Tad said —but maybe I ought not to tell you this. Your head will bo simply too swelled. Tad said you looked as if you were geing places.” "Honestly?” Dan couldn’t help grinning, puffing out his chest a bit. Maybe it was bunk but it made him feel good. a tt tt “13 EALLY, Dan!” Sandra leaned JX. forward confidentially. “I happen to know, too, that he’s looking for someone to assist him in the business. It wouldn't be a bad idea—” She narrowed her eyes, staring into space. “Cincinnati’s a good place, Dan.” she observed. “Things going on there. You're buried in this . town. It’s a shame. I don't wonder

j whcleyTT^ SWEETENS f A !! 1

you think about lighting out. Don’t blame you.” She selected a cigaret from a shagreen box at her elbow, and Dan sprang to light it. In the flare he couldn't help observing the clarity and delicacy of her skin, the long lashes which fluttered down to hide her eyes. He’d been a fool, he told himself, thinking Sandra was in league with his mother and Geraldine to trap him and keep him in Belvedere. Why, she was all right. A pal. She understood. “I’ve got to stand by father.” Dan blurted out, reddening. He hadn’t meant to say that. The words had just slipped out. But Sandra rippled on, not seeming to sense that his words had any deep significance. Probably she knew nothing about business, Dan thought paternally. She was just a little girl at heart, for all her sophisticated pose. “Your father’s a lamb,” she murmured. “I adore him." For a moment, they smoked in pleasant silence, broken only by the fall of a log and the brief excitement of a flare of sparks. Both sat staring, fascinated, at, the fire. Sandra was the first to break the spell. Softly she said, “What do you hear about Monnie, Dan?” He started, clenching his fists. Ha didn’t want to discuss Monnie with any one. “Nothing,” he told her shortly. “Why?” Sandra shrugged. “Just wondering,” she said. Her eyes narrowed. “I'm really angry at Monnie,” she told Dan softly. “I thought better of her.” He had set his mouth in that stubborn expression she knew so well. Da n was not to be moved—not to be budged from the position he had taken. Sandra, glancing away, allowed a hurt note to creep into her voice. “After all the nice things I did for her,” she complained, “she didn’t even let me know she was leaving. Well, it's easy to see where her thoughts have been lately.” tt tt tt F'XAN did not rise to the bait, but sat smoking impassively, his dark face a mask. “Not that Charles isn’t a lamb, He is and I adore him,” Sandra hastened to elucidate. “Only—well, you can’t help wondering what he sees in her, that’s all.” “Monnie’s a fine girl,” Dan said heavily, almost angrily. “Os course she is. Os course.” Sandra agreed with suspicious haste. “Haven't I always said so? Haven’t I stood up for her when every one said—well, you know how people talk, Dan.” He had risen now. To the slim girl in the shadows, he seemed to tower over her, broad shouldered, his face grim in the firelight. “What any one could say,” he began menacingly, “about Monica O'Dare—” Sandra interrupted him, her voice sirupy. “Only that she is out of your class, Dan,” she assured him. “Only that, she has that family of hers to drag around after her. “Monnie’s the flower of the flock. That horrid little snip, Kay, going around to luncheons and, teas now and making notes—she makes me laugh. Really she does with her airs. I just don’t see her most of the time—just don’t know she’s around.” “Well, I think that’s darned dumb of you,” Dan said roundly, impolitely. “Kay’s a good kid and she works hard. She’ll get somewhere, not like some of these people who hang around doing nothing.” Sandra straightened. “Meaning whom?” Dan made an impatient movement. “Oh. all that Hill crowd — the Bliss girls, Geraldine, the whole lot of them. They make me tired. Who are they anyway? Their grandfather worked in shirtsleeves when Monnie’s grandfather was starting in law business with the Vickerys and Coreys.” (To Be Continued)

7TSODK a dar 8Y BRUCE CATTQN

TN “Ranchero,” Stewart Edward -*• White spins another tale of the American west of a century ago—and a swinging, romantic, he-man-nish tale it is, too. If you read “The Long Rifle,” you'll remember Andy Burnett, the lad from Pennsylvania who took his Dan'l Boone rifle, became a fur trapper in the west, and compressed a lifetime of high adventure into a decade along the unknown slopes of the Rockies. "Ranchero” finds Andy heading into California. The Mexican flag flies there, and Americans are not welcome. But Andy makes his way. strikes up a friendship with the son of a rich Spanish landowner, establishes himself as a Californian and. in the end. is the settled squire of broad acres, a peaceful advance guard for the host that is evenually to make California part of the United States. I don't know just why it is that this novel makes such good reading. It has abundant faults. It is often more than a little obvious. But somehow, it is exceedingly entertaining. Perhaps it is because we have already made a golden age out of that far-off era when the west was young —when those trappers like Andy Burnett, as Mr. White points out, found the west uncomfortably crowded ten years before the first "explorers” came along. Those were great days, and Mr. White has given us something of their flavor. “Ranchero” is fine stuff. Published by Doubleday, Doran & Cos., it is priced at $2.50.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

rl S'PCSE YOU HEATO TW' Y / HM-I'lU LET VOL! IN ON OWLS CLUB HAS TO MO/E OUT / A SECRET, A.NDY -1 WAVE TH; PiRST OF TH' MONTH Q K I A LITTLE MONEY, AND IM S OL MAN OBERHOLDT IS PUTT IN I l <3OING TO BUY A SECOND-WAND [ B LIP, A WOLE HOWL TOR TW RENT, boat O WELL WAVE A M \ AI ? 1° COL "^ AR TeJ-l FLOATING OWLS CLUB 2^ U& OUT THURSDAY,—WE /BTf THIS SUMMER f TRIED TO SOAP HIM TOR V\ORE 11= \ crMN m TIME, BUT YOU KNOW HIM— |HVt ***% that guy WONT even nod „ JfPf [[( vou MY ' PrRST MATE /fr4 1..

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

BY THE WAY, WHAT ) OH, HE’5 WITH ( I SAW A PIECE BECAME OF THAT / PETE MENDOZA, ON JM THE PAPER INVENTOR WHO I THE FISHING 80AT.... ABOUT A MAN / STOWED AWAY ON ) I SUPPOSE HE’5 . INVENTIN' ) HARRY'S YACHT ? A STILL BUSYJRYIN' \ SOMETHING / TO INVENT Y r, ) m ( SOME SORT OF V ~\ s *L> r — / ' S: : ~,

WASHINGTON TUBBS II

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SALESMAN SAM

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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

7 nr 1 ; Wk I A VMAT V4ERS YOU M SORRY, MAX. \AS A \ J TRVIKXi TO 00, p\ WATVWR. or TACT, 1 WM. TtUJs —SCWWE 7 THOO6KT YOU ViSRS.

TARZAN THE UNTAMED

Usanga fingered the instruments and control of the airplane, half hoping and half fearing he would alight upon the combination that would put the machine in flight. If he could but fly,, how mighty would he become among his tribesmen! ThJy would pay tribute to him.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

Often he had watched the British airmen soaring above the Red lines. It looked so simple he was sure he could do it himself if only someone would show him how. He hoped that the white ma- who came in the machine and escaped, might fait* into his hands. *♦ * ,'

—By Ahern

C , T - /“ \ THERE'S SOMETHING I THATS A SAYS HERE: JOHN HERE ABOUT A J FUNNY THING NEWCOMBER HAS MADE FELLOW WHO \ TO INVENT— A CHAIR THAT CAN, INVENTED A NEW ) WHAT DOES t BE ADJUSTED INTO \ KIND OF A AT n SAY, TAG ?) S * THOUSAND ) I CHAIR// \ C DIFFERENT /

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OUT OUR WAY

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On this very day, after he had quitted the plane and was now concealed in the jungle’s edge, Usanga heard voices. Presently his joy was unbounded, for suddenly he saw the British officer coming down-trail And with him was the white girl who also ha him.

I DOWT SEE WHaU\ m I CAN ! THAT WOULD A - SUCH A CHAIR ■ ££ JIJST THE THING FOR \ WOULD BE GOOD TAG TO SIT ON .WHEN ) FOR If HE GOES TO SONOAY / HJI school ? _y

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Lieutenant Roger Cecil and Olga, the Red spy, all unconscious of their peril, reached the tail’s end and saw the plane that would spell life and liberty for them. Exclamations of relief and delight brok4 from their lips. At the same instant Usanga and his warriors rose.

—By Williams

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

PAGE 19

—By Blosser-

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin