Indianapolis Times, Volume 45, Number 129, Indianapolis, Marion County, 9 October 1933 — Page 13

OCT. 9, 19.13

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begin here today BOR WESTON. non of a millionaire, it in love with j 6/ N WARING. MemphU Rirl Bob hat tome to MemphU in connection with hi* father'- new textile plant He f.rtt saw Joan on the train when she was reMirnina home from col--Im. tw*ru* of her rar-ily financial dlfllcultle* _ The Vt Brines have little money Joar. > father, a member of an aristocratic family, killed htmaelf year* before MRb WARfNO lone* for her daughters to have the oc!al position denied ner. Joan's sister Pat two yerrs younger, loves pleasure and Ptetty She Is tnfa"ia'ed vrlth JF.RRY FORPEBTZR, soi of her employer BARBARA COURTNEY. a society girl hom Bob knew In New Yoik. Is schem•r.g 'o win him Barbara Invites Bob to a house pa.tv given bv CAROt. BHF.nir>AN At first he refuses to go. because of plana which Include Joan Barbara maneuvers .o Include Joan In the party so that Bob will change his mind She hop's that he will be disillusioned when he learns Joan does not belong to their crowd. Joan accept* the Invitation with *om® n,1 !?0w’*00 ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER NINE < Continued) • Darling.” said Joan, "don't you feel sometimes as though you never wanted to see another potato? How many years have you been paring them?" "I don't mind a bit. I'm so used to it." “Yes, I know Just the same, you hope Pat and I won’t have tc cook and scrub and pare potatoes all our lives.” Mrs. Waring smiled guiltily. "Let the potatoes alone, Joan. Go and dress for your young man.” “There s loads of time. Mother, I’m invited on a house party.” “Why, Joan, that's lovely! When are you going, darling?’’ “I’m not sure I want to go,” Joan said. She began to voice doubts. About the strange home, strange people. They were inviting her because they wanted Bob. of course. She hated the thought of accepting another girl’s invitation through Barbara Courtney. “Young people aren’t formal any more,” said Mrs. Waring. “I haven’t any clothes.” "Why, dear, your clothes are lovely. And you’ll never have any good times if you refuse all the invitations you get.” Mother wanted her to go. Mother didn't know what really lovely things were, the kind of clothes those other girls wore. The telephone rang and Joan put down the potatoes to answer. “This is Barbara Courtney,” came an even, persuasive voice. Did Bob Weston call you about the house party?” "Yes,” Joan said. "We hope you are coming.” "I'd love to,” Joan said. CHAPTER TEN ‘■’t TELL, here we are!” Bob said W as he deftly swung the car into a wide driveway over which arched the branches of enormous oak trees. "It’s a lovely old place, isn’t it, Joan?” “Lovely,” she agreed. The beauty of Rosewood Manor actually was breath-taking. The scene before them was like an exquisite setting from a motion picture of the old south. Huge trees framed the spacious colonial home, white with green shutters. Large columns extended to the roof. Comfortable looking chairs, swings and benches were scattered about the wide veranda. Truly, it was a beautiful home. Adding a final touch to the charming scene were hundreds of jonquils braving the brisk March weather and lining the driveway. The car was coming to a stop. Bob switched off the ignition and climbed out. “Wonder where every one is?” he asked. Just then the wide, front door swung open and a group of young people came out. "Hello, Bob! Thought you'd never get here. We’ve been delaying our horseback ride for almost an hour, waiting for you two slowpokes," the darkest and smallest of the three girls drawled. Jean noticed, with a sudden misgiving, that they were all dressed in riding clothes. Then she realized that Bob was introducing her. "This is Joan Waring,” he announced with a little note of pride in his voice. “Joan, this is Carol Sheridan, our hostess.” Carol, the tiny, dark girl whom Joan already had noticed, made a little bow. “I'm so glod you could come,” she told Joan. “Barbara Courtney. Joan.” Joan turned slowly to see a slender girl with red-gold hair, very blue eyes and unusually fair skin. So this was Barbara! This girl who w r as as exquisite and dainty as a Dresden doll. n a a CAROL introduced the others: Sally Blake, a tall girl, rather striking looking, with intelligent dark eyes; Fred Nelson, who had red hair and humorous blue eyes;

- THIS CURIOUS WORLD -

a ONE SPECIES OF ANT. LAS/US N/GEQ, BUILDS COVERED HIGHWAYS CONNECTING THE VARIOUS ANT -lEN ROUGHLY HANDLED, \V DEAD SO THOROUGHLY ■IAT THEIR BREATHING MOVEMENTS ARE NTIRELY SUSPENDED. RD THAT ONCE LIVED ZEALAND, REACHED LVE FBET to-$ THE DINORNIS seems to have been exterminated by the Maoris, native# of New Zealand, about three centuries ago. These birds were related to the kiwis and cassowaries, which still inhabit that country. They were unable to fly, having only rudimentary wings. NBXTr Why do the African natives light over ant hills?

Jim Warfield, dark and handsome; and Charlie Ross, a large blend youth whom Joan immediately decided could be no other than the all-American tackle. Mrs. Bheridan, a charming, elderly woman, welcomed them at the door. A colored butler and a trim colored maid appeared and gathered up the luggage Bobs two handsome leather bags and Joan's small suitcase, supplemented by a hat box. She had used them for three years, and they had been inexpensive when they were purchased the year she entered college. Nothing had seemed important to Joan then except the educational opportunity before her. The group was standing in a spacious hall with a wide, curving stairway. On the right was a large living room with rich, soft rugs and deep chairs and divans. A log fire glowed in the fireplace. Above the mantel hung a portrait. At each side of another door, opening into the music room, were book shelves reaching from the ceiling to the floor. Through the open doorway, Joan saw more young people, dressed for riding. Sensitive to beauty, she had taken In the surroundings during the brief moment while Bob chatted with Mrs. Sheridan. Upstairs in the beautiful bedroom with its ivory paneled walls, tall mirror door and bowls of white and yellow roses, Joan’s shabby luggage seemed even more conspicuous. It was in sharp contrast with Barbara’s small trunk and matching traveling accessories —a leather case filled with toilet articles, a hat box, a large suitcase. 808 BARBARA, it seemed, was sharing this room with Joan. It adjoined Carol's bedroom, and a dainty bath between served both rooms. ••Get into your riding things, said Barbara. “That is an impatient bunch downstairs.” “I didn’t bring riding clothes,” Joan said slowly. She had thought there might be need for them but., after examining the old suit she had worn it was too hopelessly shabby. “Perhaps we could find something to fit you. I’ll ask Mrs. Sheridan.” Barbara spoke doubtfully. “No, please don’t,” Joan said. ‘‘l've been driving since morning. I’ll just rest a while and then ramble about thus beautiful old place. Please don’t bother.” “Well, if you're sure you don’t mind,” said Barbara. She went out, closing the door behind her. At the foot of the stairway she met Bob. “Where’s Joan?” he asked. “She’s awfully tired,” Barbara said. “She’s going to rest before dinner.” “Rest?” Bob said blankly. ‘Yes, she said the trip tired her. What poor company you must have been!” Barbara added lightly. Bob frowned. Joan had not seemed tired. She had appeared to be gay and happy. He* had been having a wonderful time and had supposed she felt the same way. Deliberately he had prolonged the trip because of the excitement of making it with her. The around Clarksdale had taken an extra half hour. All the time he had been fighting the desire to tell her how dear and companionable she was, how much he loved her. He knew he was sentimental and romantic but he had an idea that the surroundings should be appropriate when he told Joan how he felt. A public highway where attention was constantly being diverted wasn’t a suitable place. What he had to say was too important to risk interruptions by road hogs, a blow-out or some similar nuisance. "Oh, don’t look so depressed!” Barbara said, laughing up at him, crinkling her nose upon which several freckles were sprinkled bej comingly. "There are others who appreciate your powers of entertainment.” Bob swung up the stairs without answering. He returned in a few minutes, wearing riding togs. a b n JOAN heard the gay voices as the riders halted along the drive under her window. She went to the window and looked down. Barbara and Bob were riding in front. How well they looked together! Barbara wore a tan riding habit and i the sun, falling on her bare head, brought out the lights of her redi gold hair. (To Be Continued)

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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TARZAN THE APE MAN

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Terrified by the uncanny disappearance of the ape-man. Riano seized Holt’s arm and started him off. urging: ‘Go on, Bawana!" The other natives picked up their packs and started off without waiting for orders, murmuring in a sing-song tone: “Ju-ju! Ju-ju!"

It Pays to do ALL Your Shopping in Ayres Downstairs Store

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

As the safari began to move along, Jean, looking back in terror, kept between her father and Holt. Beamish brought up the rear guard. He, too, kept looking back, just as terrified as Jean, almost treading on the heels of the others, in his fright and excitement.

—By Ahern

OUT OUR WAY

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Slowly the safari disappeared in the distance. In the spot they had quitted, the dead motherape lay huddled. After a moment of complete silence, Tarzan appeared. He approached the ape’s body, watchfully and silently. When he came to it he grunted in greeting.

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Receiving no answer, Tarzan smiled a little and patted the dead ape’s face in the usual greeting. He was puzzled for a moment by the lack of response. Then he sniffed the fresh blood. He turned her body over and saw the bullet wound. A look of grief came into his face as he crouched down.

PAGE 13

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By, Crane

—By Hamlin

—By Martin