Indianapolis Times, Volume 45, Number 44, Indianapolis, Marion County, 1 July 1933 Edition 02 — Page 9

JULY 1, 1033

Bargain JBrioe KATHAfIINE HAVHAND-TAYLOR • " eA envK *- "*S-

nrr.is rirnr todat BAP. RETT COLVIN. bum in N York si'n Tear* abroad, Jail* !n love aiifh JO '**r-o',d Elinor S'afTord Barren !• •>• and ha- made a r.ame ! r r himnelf * an arrheoloKU*. Year* i r fore < shielded hi* halfsiiter 1 MARCIA h*a votrhful romance ended :*lj J.IARCTA had a son | Barren, adopted Marcia is con- j a’an'.: fear that her husband H 1 Jr irn ’ 'he affair. UDA KTAEEOBn. Elinors beautiful and ncr ; mother is carrying on a m With VANCE CARTER Lida ach.er.-.e . r• -.• • rtr.■.to keep in the good l grate. MISS E1.1.A REX TON. her r.-ja-hane: a n.' ,n • rder to inherit a snare of 'ne Suva :' me When she earn: that Barrett la a boot to prop''e to E nor sh* deliberately trie '• creak .p the romance and sue- 1 reeds 7.he gri is heart broken when she does not near from him. One dav they meet a > her aunt ~ home Barrett offer = I,ida a clgaret and she refuses, ' declathnit she does iiot smoke Rebellious : at he ther hypocrisy Elinor takes ; riaa re t thereby offending Mis Sexton v.io ot ■ ri-. re revises her will. A fes (lavs la’er rhe dies Jfer will lea e pracuca.lv f.er entire fortune to Barres He does no* want i* and yet ran not turn it c t to the r.ghtfii! inheritors NOW GO ON WITH THE. STORY CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (Continued t Jim Junior came pounding down the stairs, an 18-year-old boy whose feet, were ,slll ahead of the rest of him. He was followed by Bert, 16, and .Sexton, almost 15. “Do I go to college?" Jim Junior esk( and from the landing. Bessie shook her head. For a moment the boy was silent. Then he drew a deep breath and his shoulders squared "Oh, well, I can | go to night school,’’ he said after | a hard swallow. Sexton alone was loudly resentful. "Gosh,” he wailed, "here I have to go through life—bored by dumb cracks about churches because of my darned name and—” “Never mind,” said Jim, slipping from his overcoat. “We’ll have a real nice dinner!” Bessie promised, her lips trembling on the smile that | she forced Jim Junior sliped an j arm around her. It made her! cling to him a moment and sob again. At half past seven Sexton opened the door to Elinor Stafford, who was still in the black she had worn at her great-aunt’s funeral. Although tears did not leave unhappy traces on her face, Sexton saw, by the languor of her eyelids, that str-d been crying too. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN BESSIE called out, “Who is it, Sexton?” and her son answered, "Cousin Elinor.” “Why. dearie!” Bessie was up in an instant, hurrying to the hall. Elinor clung to her. “Come in! Come in!” barked Jim. Must in time for dinner!” A moment later Elinor sat looking at the faces about the table. Sexton had brought a chair for her. Bert was getting the silver. Elinor was crushed because Aunt Ella hadn’t done something for the Thorpes. “I’m so glad you ran over, darling,” said Bessie warmly. "I had to come. I—” but she j could not finish. Her lips were j trembling again. "Have some more fried potatoes," j Jim urged. They were all so kind, ] Elinor realized, as she always did j when she was with them or thought of them. Her eyes rested on Jim Junior’s thin face. The boy already j was at work since his father couldn’t seem to make enough to keep things going. Jim Junior, working on ledgers, dreamed of being an engineer, a bridge builder. Bert was strongly artistic. With help, Elinor was sure he could be a real success. Sexton’s bent was as yet a mystery but he j certainly needed good schooling, j Why had Aunt Ella made such aj will? If only there was a way, even now, to right the matter! Before the meal was finished, Jim j Junior said boldly, "Well, let’s de-! cide how we’ll spend that $100!”: Everyone laughed in a way that! meant the tension was relieved. tt a a LIDA, meantime, was having a bad half hour. Vance Carter had pushed past Benson to reach her. although she had given the strictest orders about receiving no; one. He found her curled up on a chaise longue in the drawing room, j looking frightfully untidy and showing the rage and tears that j she had shed. "Darling!" he whispered unsteadily. near her. She sat erect, frightened, angry! because he had come. He took her hot hands. He laughed the brimming, assured laugh of a man who feels: that he is near his goal. ‘‘They’ll all know how it is—has been—with us soon anyhow,” he stated. "You know that!” S’’® sank back. He obviously was going + o be very difficult! "You. start your suit soon?" he asked, bending toward her, his eyes narrowed. “I—l don’t know. Vance—” "Why?” "Bentwell depends on me so!” she confided with nervous haste. "After we came in from the funeral

July ia 1SV1“ Spain surrenders Florida to „ the United States. lfcGS-Battle of Gettysburg. T~, i ~ Ihaafoa lS62"Corsress es- j t ablishes Dept, of Internal 'Revenue 3 "Confuted fcaxpayer makes out ( check to 'Dept, of / E ternal 'Revenue"

WPIGLEY’&J FASCINATING Wsk nAVO 'tSSOH

he told me how much I mean to him. He’s threatened my life if I leave him—” "Lida!” "I can’t seem to see any way out! I cant bring myself to give him that blow just now. Vance. He’s been—so disappointed! Aunt Ella left him $100!" “But you said—!” “I know, dear, but how could I foresee?” "I'm not going to let anything keep us apart!" Vance said. Lida had not known that his chin could be so hard. “Oh, dear!" she whimpered. She covered her face. a a a XITHEN Vance left an hour later, VV he realised that she was firm in her resolve not to ask for a divorce. Miserable, he hurried to his favorite speakeasy. Two cocktails and he felt somewhat cheered. An hour later he was unsteady on his 'ret but certain otherwise and smiling grimly. He summoned a taxicab and wont to his rooms. There he took from a desk drawer a small Spanish revolver and inspected it. “Ail right—’’ he murmured thickly. He put it into a pocket, returned to his waiting cab. “Where to?” the driver asked. "Park avenue. Know the number —can’t seem to remember—” However, with a second's thought he had it. Wilkins, spelling the night door , man, opened the taxicab door. It was that Carter man again, he saw. The one who had been coming there so much to see Mrs. Stafford. And more "shot” than usual, too. Smiling cynically, Wilkins watched Vance Carter lurch toward the elevators. Wilkins saw* Vance Carter fumbling in a rear pocket as he stepped into the elevator that had come rushing down in response to his ring. Wilkins supposed he was reaching for a flask. “You need another drink!” Wilkins thought scornfully. The elevator boy winked at the doorman; Wilkins raised his stocky shoulders and again turned toward the street. A moment later tenants of the fourteenth floor heard a shot. They thought, rushing hysterically toward the elevator corridor, that the sound had come from above. a a a ELINOR was wiping dishes for Bessie, painstakingly and a trifle slowly, when the telephone rang. “You go, Junior,” Bessie called. “Mother's hands are in the dish water—” Bert moved toward the dark rear hall where Junior was barking, “Hello!” Bert had a girl and didn't want the family to know. He was aware rom past experiences of the ragging that would be his if they got onto it. "Mother!” Junior called, turning toward the kitchen. "It’s Benson. He wants to speak to you—” "Yes, Benson?" she said a moment later. “Mrs. Thorpe speaking. You wished to speak to me? WHAT?” There was a moment’s pause. Bessie turned from the telephone. “Jim,” she called steadily, “take Elinor Into the front room and show her that nice little footrest Sexton made at school. Then she turned again to the telephone. “Just a minute, Benson—” Elinor followed docilely, but she was troubled almost alarmed. Her aunt’s tone had been sharpened by some real shock. Elinor was afraid something unpleasant had happened. She admired the footrest generously, but she continued to wonder and worry. Bessie was slow to appear. Elinor heard her calling her husband, heard him coming down the stairs. Then there was an interval punctuated by the sibilant, buzz-broken silence that means a whispered colloquy. (To Be Continued)

a rw^ 8Y BRUC£ CATTON

“ \ CENTURY OF PROGRESS." A. a fat book edited by Charles A Beard, emphasizes the fact that the very idea of progress is a relatively new force in human affairs. Through antiquity and the middle ages, Dr. Beard points out. the race as a whole had no conception that continued progress could be possible. Only with the dawning of the industrial age did people generally get the notion that mankind had an indefinite developing future, and I that it could somehow, year by year, | work its way out from under such ancient curses as poverty, disease, oppression, war and hunger. American history in the century just ended is important, then, in showing the fruits of that idea, and Dr. Beard and the writers he has assembled show that a very solid and substantial amount of progress has indeed been made. An American citizen of 1833 would have rejoiced mightily, Dr. Beard points out. if he could have known that during the coming century the Union would be permanently cemented. chattel slavery would be abolished universal education would be established and complete suffrage would be granted. Those things have in fact been done. We face grave problems for our next century,- to be sure, but we are Justified in being rather hopeful about them. This boook reviews the progress that has been made in suoh diverse fields as invention, social legislation. finance, transportation, labor and industry. I would have liked it better if Dr. Beard had written all of it; but the articles by Jane Addams, Frank Lowden. Watson Davis and Grace Abbott are excellent, and the book as a whole is remarkably good. Published by Harpers, it sells for $3.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

( YES —IM SENDING THE WIFE FOR TWE SEA* IN WIG V] V* ( HER VACATION, EITHER TO AN OCEAN jf BLOOD -HNVfAUjtf.'A RESORT, OR ON A.TR \P TO TH'CANADIAN NO WONDER HE LOOKS ROCKIES,/—FOR MYSELF, BAXTER, Lc LIKE A BIG WALRUS P J* I’M GETTING a ONE ,Y KNOW—JUST A LITTLE FIFTY- I CAN SEE, OF A , / f FOOT CRUISER J—THE SEA \S IN THE l WOOPLE AND A'BOAT, HOORUE BLOOD, BAXTER ?-VES—WE IS A TPAMP \xfr <SO SACK TO THE VIKINGS— AND ON M STEAMER J t V £ DOWN THRU THE CENTURIES OF MARINE fl / L A HISTORY YOU'LL FIND A HOOPLE , jjj. • (TT SAILED THE: rfjjp|| | -(-re- ■*>.. | |j| lijip ) . {joSSING IT OVER. |Ui ,■ 1933 BY NEA SERVICE. IHC. —— J

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

BOY? I HOPE. ] ALL RIGHT MENU) f WE’VE SEEW f WHERE to, Y MAIM LINE. AH’ A ( SWELL, CFD? U-v S, OF THE IT WORKS... IF MOVE IN OM ’EM* CROSSED, GUSQUICK.' gs SUCK? J LAY LOW FOR SWELL? LOOK * IT onFMJ’T I m VC lIN ON CM. /iW .1 \ WE. GOTTA TRY A i A FREIGHT TO I AT THEM YEAH... AW’ masked VvfE GOT TViEM * GETAWAY// COME LON 6 ■ J GO? LET’S } FIND OUT MEM "" ft CORNERED •• \ i-n GO IU AND -THEIR KMEELEO L C J - - - UHTIE. MB. | GAME? MMgrcr Y '' "*

WASHINGTON TUBBS II

SALESMAN SAM

TVMS is Pi N THEM EM'rM THIW6- VS TAKE A /MOTSO FtASTI \F MOU LUE(?E REALLV) COhY-ER-aiHEkl /AMD YOU UJEPe'Y CMC-OSH V SFEMT TW THREE A VERY SWeeT LETTER-/ BeTcOEEM US,HUH, vaTXS ? THlMKlmo ABOUT uIH-f DIO You / DECIDED To UIRtTE Too CHEHPTo { KITTY ' CEMTs FEE. TK P(APe.R " - A \TeROUWD FOR NOMTHS?/vT I only MFD three buy Ps STfttApl / Foul' (AMD EUVELOPEI j ~~ -.- r, .7 ' - I

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

TARZAN THE UNTAMED

’.I” g|tf k Burrvufbi lv Prodafd ts fUMU Bockt .ad fn t f" | V’ ' f _-**-**. . , J

On the surface of the ground or through the swaying branches of the trees the spoor of man or beast was an open book to Tarzan of the Apes. But even his acute senses were baffled by the spoorless trail of the airship whose path had lain through the shifting air thousands of feet above the tree tope, before -it tell.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

Eyes, ears and sense of smell were all useless to the ape-man this time. Only on his sense of direction could Tarzan depend in searching for the fallen plane. Before he left the valley of plenty he made several small kills and carried the choicest, boneless cuts with him. Now he had left the dense vegetation of the Jungle.

* —By Ahern

OUT OUR WAY

/ 'N. j X COOIDmT BE. \ MOO APE A <SPcRTS / there's 'ahat \f woo \ / a sfLwTSMAH- 1 maki , hapy , ani oomt f x Gcrr om . V goT uP \ 1 mcmeß! Becaose. ' hmovm t veu / rT wa < => Juwr at ThRE c 1 Liw'E. To DCmT LiKc. “TiME.— gI-ttC ocicc? ot:r cP BEfofl£ ’ CLOCKS! MOO DCMT OCXCCK DAY UC,MT- 1 OOMT, UWE GREASE, E.R j KtOSOUtTOE-S, CYje'r’-Av.O'S, , er* 1 A>sf,©QY, VNHAT MCQmisl , oe? MOD ,OR WET PCAQim' ER V A V <THAT?y I BcPS,OR STALE , SHcP WHISTLES, EP ■*/ i SANDWICHES, OP? j SMOKE , tR- ypi I \ \ BC6 WIRE FEMCES J BuT,MOO OO uKE — / -i— otcr£ij,i K "" o-c> c REO u. a PKT.orr; tvIEM ME! 1933 by nu scwvicc. iwc,7-j

< r nr ; f £>* . TU\, ROOM , - \VU \_\6A\ / _

The first day of his search he climbed to the highest hills where only sparse, sickly scrub grew. From here his keen eyes searched the arid landscape before him. He saw again those terrible gorges that had so nearly claimed his life once before and which he must recross. For two days he sought for some clew to the whereabouts of the machine. I

—Rv Ederar Rice Burroughs

He saw nothing that would help him locate it or its occupants. He crossed the first deep gorge and circled far beyond it. He cached portions of his kills at different points, building cairns of rock to mark their location. Occasionally he stopped and called aloud, listening for some response but only sinister silence rewarded him. i

PAGE 9

—By Williams

-—By Biosser

-—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin