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

JULY 1, \m__

Barqain JBrioe KATHARINE HAVILAND-TAYLCA • toss me a ecavice, ihC..

Brr.tN HFRF TODAY BARRETT COLVIN bn-* !n N*w Vor* after veara abroad, fall* ‘.n '.o-.e *>. ,th 20-.vear-nlri Elinor Sf afford Rarrftt i* (15 and ha-- marie a name for hiir.fcil a an arrheologiat. Year* before h < . .elded hi* ha.lrtater MARCIA, when a vo'i'hful romance ended d;**!rou:- MARCIA had a on whom Barr>'- adopted Mama is con*>ntlv in fear that her husband will learn ' 'he affair LIDA STAFFORD. Elinor s beautiful and unaerupuloua mother is rarrv.r.g on a flirta* 'r. With VANCE CARTER Lida rehemes ronatan'lv to keen in 'he good crarn of MISB ELLA BEXTON. her hullhand'* aunt in order to inher.t a si.are of the Seaton fortune When she earn- tha' Barret- 1* about to propose to Elinor she deliberately trie* to break jp the romance and succeed* The girl is heartbroken when she erne* no' hear from him One day they meet at her aunt s home Barrett offer* Lida a r tsnt and she ref j*e , declaring she does no' smoke Rebellious at her mother i hypocrisy Elinor 'akes a eignrf! thereby < (fending Miss S< x'on w ho nnee more re-ops her will. A few das* later she riles. Her will leave practcallv her entire fortune to Barrett He doei no' want r and vet can not turn It. over to the rightful inheritors. NOW GO ON WJIII THE STORY CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 'Continued i Jim Junior came pounding: down the stairs, an 18-year-old boy whose feet were still ahead of the rest of him. He was followed by Bert. 16, and Sexton, almost 15. “Do I go to college?'' Jim Junior asked 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 arm around her. It made her cling to him a moment and sob again. At half past seven Sexton opened the door to Elinor StafTord, 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 she'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. “Just 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 could not finish. Her lips were trembling again. “Have some more fried potatoes,” Jim urged. They were all so kind, Elinor realized, as she always did when she was with them or thought of them. Her eyes rested on Jim Junior’s thin face. The boy already 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 certainly needed good schooling. Why had Aunt. Ella made such a will? If only there was a way, even now. to right the matter! Before the meal was finished. Jim ' nior said boldly, “Well, let’s de- ■ how we’ll spend that $100!" ryone laughed in a way that int the tension was relieved. a a a IDA, meantime, was having a bad half hour. Vance Carter 1 ad pushed past Benson to reach ®r, although she had given the rictest orders about receiving no ;ie. He found her curled up on a maise longue in the drawing room, looking frightfully untidy and showing the rage and tears that 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!" She sank back. He obviously was going to be very difficult! “You'll start your suit soon?" he Rsked, 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

mmmmd j July HE 1821* Spain, surrenders Florida to the United States. 1865 s ßattle of Gettysburg. C -tse 1 -r#*^ 1862= CDr&ress es- ( i tablishFs Dept, of I Internal'Revenue 1933 "Confused tax- . payer ma kes out I check to "Dept, of f E temal 'Revenue!' 1

| fT | i] y B Hk T AT T™li 1

he told me how much I mean to him. He's threatened my life if I leavp him —" "Lida'" "I ran't, seem to sec any way out! I I can t bring myself to give him i that blow just now. Vance. He’s been—so disappointed! Aunt Ella ; leP 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 1 had not known that his chin could be so hard. "Oh. dear!" she whimpered. She covered her face. a o a Vanre left an hour later. VV he realized 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 feet but certain otherwise and smiling grimly. He summoned a Taxicab and went to his rooms. There he took from a desk drawer ; a small Spanish revolver and ini spoofed it. All 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 doorman. opened the taxicab door. It was that Carter man again, he saw. The one who had been coming theie 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 roar 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. j The elevator boy winked at the doorman; Wilkins raised his stocky | shoulders and again turned toward j the street, A moment later tenants of the fourteenth floor heard a shot. They thought, rushing hysterically toj ward the elevator corridor, that the sound had come from above. tt tx 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 i 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 I they got onto it.. "Mother!” Junior called, turning i toward the kitchen. “It's Benson. He wants to speak to you—” I "Yes, Benson?" she said a moment later. "Mrs. Thorpe speaking. You wished to speak to me? WHAT?” j There was a moment's pause. Bessie turned from the telephone. “Jim,” she called steadily, “take I Elinor into the front room and j show her that nice little footrest Sexton made at school. Then she j turned again to the telephone. I “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 I generously, but she continued to wonder and worry, i Bessie was slow to appear. Elinor heard her calling her husband, heard him coming down the stairs. : Then there was an interval puncI tuated by the sibilant, buzz-broken ' silence that means a whispered colloquy. (To Be Continued)

adaT BY BRUC6 CAHON

A CENTURY OF PROGRESS," . 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, j Through antiquity and the mid- | die ages, Dr. Beard points out. the \ | race as a whole had no conception : that continued progress could b? i ; possible. Only with the dawning of the | industrial age did people generally ; get the notion that mankind had an indefinite developing future, and that it could somehow, year by year, j work its way out from under such j ancient curses as poverty, disease, oppression, war and hunger. American history in the century l 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 ee- | mented. chattel slavery would be abolished universal education ; would be established and complete j j suffrage would be granted. Those things have in fact been j 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, la- j bor 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 J Abbott are excellent, and the book ' as a whole is remarkably good. | Published by Harpers, it sells I for $3.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

,-> ( YES -‘-I AA SENDING* THE WIFE FOR V f THESE A* IN HIS V* 7 HER VACATION, EITHER TO AN OCEAN BLOOD —-HNVfv\—• RESORT, OR ON ATRIP TO TH'CANADIAN J \ NO WONDER HE LOOKS r ROCKIES FOR MYSELF, BAXTER, L C LIKE A BIG WALRUS P %A lrA GETTING AVACHT NOT a BIG ] C the ONLY TIE-UP : jfA ONE ,Y KNOW -'JUST A LITTLE FIFTY- I CAN SEE,OF A \\ s 's FOOT CRUISER THE SEA \S IN THE G > HOOPLE AND A "BOAT, 111 HOOPLE BLOOD, BAXTER IS A TRAMP , GO BACK TO THE VIKINGS —AND ON A L. STEAMER / ■> \ M DOWN THRU THE CENTURIES OF MARINE £ / h A HISTORY YOU'LL FIND A HOOPLE H.^ U'II AT TWE OP TWE V °° " c , VARIED CRAFT THAT }

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

njj l ST BOY.' I HOPE ’ ALU BIGHT MEN... ■ Wr.'VEI &EEN DOUBLE-'’ I WHERE TO, 1 MAIM UNE... t'swEU., PEPf UeSSLS--’ WE OF the " WORKS... IF MOVE IN ON EM ’ ,nO' ' .0-4 CROE6ED, 6US.' QUICK.' I SUCK? J LOW FOR SWEIL' LOOK IT OOFSHT lIN WIN CIV|. l - WE GOTTA TRY ft - -Ml fc FREIGHT TO IT THEM I YEm.lH' masked O^.H ?r VIE GOT THEM dl • Ig GETAWAY/.' a COME W-ONGfi I LET’£> J FIND OUT MEM / CORNERED " goiwawo j their ■■ _ NOW!.' >.£, S°T . ..:

WASHINGTON TUBBS II

SALESMAN SAM

'Ve.S,SA<T, THIS iS a NTvteM E't'R'lTHblG \S TPvKe- /MOTSO east! if YOU WJER.eREPiU.Y) OOHY-eR-UJHeH 0 /AMD You uoette' N ) micfosh V SPSMT TVV TWRE-e > ! VERY SWEE-X LsTTER-f BeTuOESM US,HUH. KiTTS ? TWIMKIMG-ABOUT UIHM DID YOU / DECIDED Xo (jORiTe TOO CHEAP To / KiTTY ' CEAITs FE.R. TU’ PaFSB - ° CARIES \T AROOMD FOR trtOMTHS?/VT I OML.Y HAD THREE) BOY A STAMP!/ HouJ > AMD CMVE LOPS I •■' - j —~~~~— . . ~-•• cftLn ■’ . -. i

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

TARZAN THE UNTAMED

i- fcof ou iu nan % ' V r**". j r 1' f DISTRIBUTED SOLELY BY UNITED FEATURE SYNDIC ATS INC V

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 tops, before it fell.'

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

Y' / T COOIDmT BE. VHOO APE A fePoPlPs /THEBES yjHaT YOU \ j A SPOBTSMAH- mam.WARV, an OonT I X GOT Mika On| . V GoT LIP \ / KldvjEßl \ Kkiovsl T - VOU IT WAS Ju&T at TmQ£E T OCKi’-r LIKE. To ' Gltt’n oavught ocicck oer cP befope . clocks.l you donT M DAY w ° DAY LIGHT— 1 DOkiT, L\HE. GQEASE., ER LtosOovTOE-S*, J CMef?-AuU=> , E.R I What h moqkdni / CP? k/\od ,op vme.t poaPim’machimepYEß \ A Battler f / V / FELT, OR SANO ; CCLO LOKJC*4EE>, ! \. r/ BuPSS,OP STAGE , SHOP WAtSTLES, EQ • •\ \ BCS Wire fences,/ ©or.woo Do uke 1 . . ■ ....,

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.

—By Edgar 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 hi* 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.

PAGE 9

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin