Indianapolis Times, Volume 45, Number 36, Indianapolis, Marion County, 22 June 1933 — Page 17

.TUNE 22, 1933_

Barg; ain JBride 'by KATHM!H£ HAVILAND TAYLOfi ® ,55S NEA ,'C.,

UI(,IN 111 Ki; TODAY HARRETT COLVIN, back in New York after four veers meetr 20-year-oid ELINOR stAFVokD nt.a faJl! in love with hr. Barret* r- 35. wealthy and has made a r me ior himseU as an archeOlr ;■ Elinor s h-a tiful mother. LIDA STAFFORD. has kept the g rl In the back-itro-rnd. wanting attention for herself. Lida : rnrrving on a flirtation with VANCE CARTER and Ik constantly whennng to keep in the good grace* of MISS ELLA SEXTON her husband* aui.t in ( rder to inherit a share of the fiext fortune. Elinor hates thl* Rarre't : half-sister. MARCIA RADN'd :? terrifie ; for fear her husband . earn <,i an unfortunate episode in het 11 • Ye .11 .• be.'..re Barrett shielded . i wh< . a v. ithful romance ended < >ro . Marcia had a son whom Be* ert an opted The boy is .9 year* old i Me rent insists that ;f her husband 1< ims the truth he will never forgive he' HAROLD !) EX TER, the boy’s tutor, • ■ t blackmail. Barrett, hinting ... ledge of Dexter’s past tail of r.l iif frlcbten* the man into ..•M v.ul! rot make trouble. ■ take; Elmor S* afford for a r • ."h ’ irae he sec:, her she seems t., t,arming. NOW r.O ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER NINE fContinued) ■ ?” 1.0 asked probingly. "Oh, yes. Really!” ; ..i can’t we go again?” he ; .is casually as he could. ‘ I: you like.” • do like!” he assured her almost "I’d like nothing so much u > be one of your friends.” uii.” she said, ‘‘that is so kind of ou!" He put his hand on hers; he could not h r lp the gesture. Elinor n iurned the pressure frankly and warmly. Barrett’s heart turned over. CHAPTER TEN TAENTWELL STAFFORD sat before the fire, flushed and heavy eyed. The usual decanter and glass were beside him on a small table within easy reach. A little stir at the door made him turn to see Elinor, her eyes bright and shining. “Well, child”—he offered in a rasping, low voice after the cough that was habitual, “Dear!” she exclaimed. She came forward swiftly, stooped and kissed him, then settled on a low stool at his feet. Her lather studied her. She was beautiful rarely, undoubtedly beautiful. He didn’t see how even the dullest eyes could miss that fact. “And what?” he asked. It was a nightly ritual, one that had started back in the days when it prompted a history of her play hours and of how she had done at lessons. ”1 had a ride,” she replied. She was staring into the fire and trying not to smile. He saw her set her teeth on the lower lip which would turn upward, saw the dreaming languor of her eyes. “Um! Stafford reached for the decanter to pour another drink. He always had known it would hurt when it came; but he had in vi r sensed the depths of the hurt. And yet he' wanted Elinor to fall in love, to be happy and settled in a home of her own. “And who took you riding?” “Mr. Colvin—Mr. Barrett Colvin.” “Thought perhaps you’d gone with Bob Telfair —” “Oh, no!” “Like him, don’t you?” "Yes, I like him but—” u u a “T>UT what?” Stafford prompted. IJ "Well,” she explained slowly, “I like him as a very good friend. You know he’s helped me a lot with Cousin Philip, going to see him when I couldn’t manage to because of Mother and the way she feels. He’s been a very good friend!” she ended loyally. ' Yes, I know. Poor young devil! Well, what about Colvin? You like him?” "Very much.” The response came low. "Hum—!’\ Bentwell again lifted his glass. “I had the most wonderful afternoon I've ever had in my whole life!” she confessed. Bentwell had known it would come to her in that way; that she was built lo give a whole heart and not a cautious inch of it. “Do you know Mr. Colvin, father? she asked. She wanted to talk of Colvin, he saw. I know him fairly well,” he responded in his slow way. “His family lived across the street from Aunt Ella for more years than even I can remember. “While I was still on the leash I used to be dragged there, and Col--3 in and his sister ran in often. He’s a good chap. I understand, but they say he’s a hard-boiled bachelor. I think a good many women have tried to marry him. The Colvin fortune is considerable, you know.” a a a CUE flushed at the words. him,” Elinor admitted honestly and a trifle loudly. "But If he wanted to marry me—he’d have to do no

; . ~ | iVis'J -W i\ 1 lelm vot i Huiulwidl, German plulolc&ist dJli writer, born. Ls'os*Giu.ssepe Maxzini, Italian patriot, tarn JL 0 b 'r^^ni^vio'vjgM Who 'Democratic coo] ventiorv normn4h?s I Has B cock ai id E^ lish - iir case you re interested.

l^MazrnJ AFTER EVERY MEAL

more than snap his fingers or whistle!" She tried to make a joke of It. laughine, but she could not. After the failure she covered her face for a moment with her hands. “Suppose. ’’ Stafford said slowly, "he hasn't sense enough to know how lovely you are? Suppose he’s as blind as so many damned fools?” “Then I suppose I’ll know I wasn’t —nice enough.” “Don't!” Her father begged. Elinor ’ slipped her hand into his and looked at the decanter. He had already had a good deal; more even than was usual. “We must play chess after dinner,” she said, eyes still on the decanter. “I'd like to but I don’t .want to bore you, baby.” “But I'd love it! You know I love it. P’ather, when is mother going?” Her voice suddenly was anxious. They start, I believe, tomorrow morning.” “Then—that’s all right!” she said quickly, happily. She didn’t want Mr. Colvin to meet her mother until she, Elinor, had had a little chance. She wouldn t have any chance at all if he met her mother, Elinor knew. It had happened before W’ith every young man who had been attracted by Elinor, except Bobby Telfair, who had remained adamant under her mother's attacks. The attack were made, the girl understood, in order that a selfish woman might prove the fact that she could attract and enchant and iule wherever and whomever she wished. Benson appeared in the broad doorway just then to announce that dinner was served.* a a jr'LINOR rose quickly, her father m his slow* and cumbersome way. The dining room had been decorated under Lida s direction in what she considered an impressive manner, but tonight the aged oak walls and family portraits looked down on faded roses in the center of the table. It was the sort of thing Elinor detested. Consistent simplicity, she thought to be so much more agreeable. The constant striving to impress others had become one of the meanest, although one of the smallest, of Lida’s deceits. "Mother dining out?” Elinor asked after Benson had pushed her cliaii under her. “Yes,” her father said. "Off somewhere with that young Carter.” “I loathe him and yet I’m sorry for him, too,” Elinor stated. It was odd how she could talk and hear herself as if from a distance, while all the time that new, excited feeling in her heart made her seem to be a different persons. “Father—” “Yes, dear?”* “How are you off financially just now? I saw a dress yesterday I would like to have.” Then get it,” he answered quickly. “Thanks ever so much,” she said. Elinor was thinking that she would try her hair anew way. Low on her neck. Her mother had seen her with it that way and called it "idiotically stagey.” But her mother would be in Miami. Beautiful thought! And Tuesday when they drove up the Hudson to have dinner at the inn that he liked, she’d wear her tan coat that looked quite well in spite of being so old. and the little tan hat that Celeste, her mother's maid, said was becoming. Benson appeared in the doorway. “There's a call on the telephone for you, Miss Stafford,” he said “It’s Mr. Colvin.” (To Be Continued)

*1 BRUCE CATION

'JpHE great turning point in America's depression came in the ten days beginning March 4, 1933. In that period, the American people dropped a fear that had begun to paralyze them and took up a hope that was inconquerable. Future historians will call that time one of the significant moments in American history. So, at any rate, says a pamphleteer who calls himself George Grey, in "Ten Days: A Crisis in American History,” a meaty little pamphlet which probably paints its contrasts in sharper colors than are wholly justified, but which does give a good summary of an enormously interesting and significant, time. Just before Mr. Roosevelt's inaugural, says the writer, fear in the inner circle at Washington had reached panic proportions. People close to the White House talked of "mob rule”; dismal prophecies about grass growing in the streets were being accepted at face value. Fear spread to the country at large. The inaugural took place amid unendurable tension. Then, with the inaugural address and the administration actions of the succeeding ten days, came the change. Tire whole structure of the Roosevelt administration was to be built on the foundations laid then. The upturn began then. Confidence returned. "The crisis was over—when the public believed it over." And now, says our pamphleteer—wlro really shouldn't have hidden behind a pen name—we’re on our way again. Diufield & Green is offering this pamphlet for 56 cents.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

DRAT n SPUTT-T-T - f WNVaa—MOT P^NG OF NONSENSE: M ANY INCOME TAX,EH f ACT 1 - WRY,THAT "PUTS YOU ? LIKE A. RECORD ON OUR A UP ON ™' -i A.M ’ BAND WA.6ON WITH SOME NUU.IONMRE, - YOU PAYING AN U nft I-MILLIONAIRES ? ) MAJOR ? TAX FOR THE YEARS / > us aIA .^ M CLOCK C CALL * AND \P32— ETC— \ JUMPERS F¥Y AN INCOME ] >EfsA UP -WHY, CONFOUND TAX C—-YOU MILLIONAIRES, J AND TELL I WAS CALLED IN J Who ONLY LOSE TH' / 'em mot LIPLE OF YEARS AGO A "BUTTONS OFF YOUR VEST, /TO ANNOY THIS SAME SORT j ( CAN SET OUT OF IT LIKE ] you WITH OP TWINS 9 AN EEL IN A A THOSE ' " C. j VS' ' 1939 8V : J CA SERVICE. INC. \ \\C >- L-CET:"/ ■ - -J

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

Iy . - - THE HUMMING) ] f WH . T T,\ 'Si T 7 >. /- y S V~7 ! —, -x NOISE ie> x WF DO Uflt ) inmim / WELL, A SHH...DOMT TALK, WHATEVER IT 6ET BACK IN THE \(l HOPE YOU’RE Wr K|(VAL e o ON'DOWN )TO ThTZ S WOW ABOUT i ? FRECKLES ? I THINK IT'S COMING * &U£>HES> AGA N f THIS CI6HT,CEO‘ ! j A /l ™ NER\eA I DON’T HEAR ) GOSH. 1 THIS) T 0 TH p JA.Ap ,p A ' T? 1 HEAR 50METHIN6... THIS WAY— TIME WE'RE GOING / > AND IF ITS * IT. DO YOU / THING IS / CEMENT \) TauuL WS- ( VEP ! NOW. WAIT A COME TO GEE SOMETHING/ ) THE PHANTOM TINGLE, S RED? Jr KIN DA L PLANT? /> ANYTHING life A fSAS MIN)UTE - YEP - r J , ON A V 5 CRAM f J ( LOCOMOTIVE. THE &OYS

WASHINGTON TUBBS II

O.in ™.,i '.-.j ,w. , .in. m ’* The sole wvtmess —To THE TRAGIC PEATrt fTW poeSN’T PARC COMFIPE IN E\JEN CAPTAIN FOLLY, WS BEST FRIEtAO.

SALESMAN SAM

f ll yt- S\ i HOORftS 1 ot!W Tew HALES TO hohe! IF 1 CAN\ ' ■* * ... 1 •/>, ■’j ‘ av ‘hu atwvie* iHe‘"HEOUB. p.t.

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

TARZAN THE UNTAMED

L.. T . • . ———i— -

"Tarzan has told you. I know,” said Olga, “that I am a Red spy—a traitor to our country's cause.” Roger made a pained gesture of dissent. “He has reasons to believe that.” she continued, “but before you judge me, hear the facts. We have but a few hours of life left. It matters not, now, if I break my oath of silence. -Listen.”

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

The girl spoke rapidly’, without hesitation. “I have told you what befell me up to the time I was sold in the Persian slave market and rescued by the American. How we escaped, from that awful situation, seems even now to me beyond belief. But out of it we came—thanks to luck and the* courage of Dick Terrel, for that was my rescue r-i -name. *

—By Ahern

OUT OUR WAY

(T "Y / WHY ,TV-U€> LiTTLE vjiGrHT? KiOW, \ ' M MV OOX OF AGoW CAMT \ nNHAAT ) CHOCOLATE. CHERRIES. come, ocwn stars ■? H'NOVsJ a GoiLTcy LOOK/ \w\Tv-\OUT Havmki' \ • / AMO HE WOMT SHOW TO GO TtaOuGH A pVr WHAT HE HAS IN CvjSTon'lS "sISPECTiCm pS^ K& T£f?°' TH * TS 0000 owl I i PROOF * Im GOiniCt _ / # BomP SVERY One AT uA £j OF His PocKers, he at Pocv^‘"r X^ GET GF?W. .m

V ™'il i'~L ~' Vi'i^ll

f ~ /—.y r\ Zz&F _ , >*->. I vot.i.v cu. f •(} IOT3 BY ne srpvKr ;nc j

Roger Cecil winced at the fervent tone in her voice as she mentioned that name. He dreaded what he might hear further, jealous of this man he would never know. “All my life I shall be glad and grateful for having known him,” continued Olga. Then after a moment's silence: “Somehow he managed to get me through that maze of treacherous by-ways.

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

“At last we believed ourselves safe from pursuit. Only then did I see that his left arm hung limp, while blood trickled down his sleeve. Hastily I bandaged it as best I could, though he insisted, ‘lt is nothing.’ It proved to be,\however, an ugly wound a poisoned knife th*>wn by the fellow who had bought me in the bazar.”

PAGE 17

—By Williams -■

—By Blossei

—By Crane

—By £ ill

—By Martin