Indianapolis Times, Volume 45, Number 167, Indianapolis, Marion County, 22 November 1933 — Page 18

NOV. 22, 1933.

BLACK HAW

BV LOU WEDEMAR fOoovrieht. 19SS br Th* TimMi EDITORS NOTE: The narrative. "Black Hawk,” a thrilling story of life in Indiana. 1* purely fiction and it* leading characters exist only in the authors imagination. • a a SYNOPSIS W’h*n * mvuterloti* menace confront# eemrl Indiana Robert Martvne wealthT Ind:*n*lK>ls* mar-about-town. who lncldentaliv la major of military intelligence is aa*:gned by Washington to Investigate the rase. There has been a strange explosion at Pt Harrison The President of th United Rtatea has been threatened hv some on who sign* himself th Biack Hawk and whose sign* 1* a winged death s head Re'jrring from Washington, Major Bob Martvne has lunch with Sva Breen, society girl whom he loves, but who Is betrothed by her father * wish to Lionel 8* George, wealthy scientist. Boh and A a sre approaching the postoflice, where he has been assigned an office, when a bomb from an airplane itrikes the building anl practically destroys the third glory. The Black Hawk demands evacuation of Marlon counts declaring hla force* will de'mg *ll industry in the region If h ■ not obeyed He save the union *'’ on will be dextroved next At the station a tV*nlsperer leap* from an intom:ng 'ram and attempts to place a nltrine homb on the tracks to Wow 'ip 'rain and terminal Nitrlne Is a powerful explosive invented bv the Black Hawk The Whisperer, thwarted, hurl' himseif in front of another train, and is killed. m m m CHAPTER SIX (Continued) “li* there any other danger?” “Yes, it may deteriorate of j'aelf, bo that It all] explode automatically at any minute! - ’ "Whew!” said Lieutenant Qulnustin. "Let’s put It out in Fall creek, quick!" That was what Bob reluctantly agreed to do. Piling into a car offered by Al Fpeney and gingerly boarding a police skiff launched near the North Delaware street bridge half an hour later, he had Quinnstin pilot him into the middle of the creek. There, nestling in a cradle of cotton hatting, they left Black Hawk’s deadly token. • * at “I'm going to get a couple of hours’ I sleep,” Bob told Qulnnstin. “You better do the same.” “All right. Where?" “let’s go to the Claypool." The manager greeted them with: “We expected you. Major Martyne. Somebody called and asked if you were here yet.” . Bob raised his eyebrows. “We didn’t know we were coming until ten minutes ago, at, Union Station. I wonder who called?” The manager didn’t know'. Bob went to bed at once, in one of two rooms on the sixth floor assign -* ihem. Li * Quinnstin first made a c * the apartment. He wi>. ....easy: How had any one know r n they would be there—unless some of Black Hawk's men had been near them at the station? He locked the door and put a chair against it. A man’s life wasn’t worth a penny in Indianapolis that night. The rooms seemed secluded and safe. From the window, across an angle of the building, he couid see another window opening on the corridor. He would watefi. that window for a while. It was nearly dawn. He turned his head to light a cigaret . . . a m m 808 felt as if he had just closed his eyes when a heavy thump outside his door brought him wide awake. “Quin!”’ he called. There was no response. Hp opened the door. Lieutenant Quinnstin stood about as he had last seen him. near the door. But his position against the wall was unnatural, and he did not move. . The early morning sunlight glinted on a blade stuck in the wall just above his head. There was a soft, whispering sound in the hall, and Bob drew his revolver. Lieutenant Quinnstin had been killed by a hatchet., in a locked room, while Bob slept a few feet away. Bob started toward the hall door. CHAPTER SEVEN WILFRED BEAUMONT, who had no difficulty whatever in finding his way around a city of 7,000.000 population, was lost in Indianapolis. After leaving George Breen's house, where he had been precipitated into the Black Hawk puzzle, he spent the night at the club w here lie had met Avas lather. Pleading that the organization owed him a

- THIS CURIOUS WORLD -

A SUNItfN SHIP OES OiRECTLV TO the bottom, _ ' NO MATTER HOW DEED THE OCEAN MAv ftE > the ENORMOUE POESKJQ* AT GREAT DEPTHS DOCS NOT RTTASO , THE SISK INI* VESSEL. . //'tfK HIPDOPOTAMU^?!^ POES HOT SWEAT BLOOO THIS BELIEF AROSE AIDD^ FQM THE FACT THAT jR, V -/irvu/v_> THE ANIMAL EXCRETES CAKj CHAN& ® TWE A CARMINE COLORED FOCUS OF THEIR. Pigment from its Sion \ eves instantly... \ OECOAMN® FAfi.- • "" SIGHTED ASIO NE4 :;sr TED ■ m / \yj}. x* w*wi me

APTFR the Titanic and Lusitania disasters, frequent discussions aros* as to whether or not a sunken ship goes directly to the bottom of the sea. There was a popular idea that the ship might come to a standstill, when it reached the depths of great pressure. Water, however. is nearly incompressible, and its density increases but little under pressure. NEXT—What North American roan try was once in South America?

place to sleep, he curled up on a lounge and slept. Tuesday morning he went out, to spend a few precious cents on breakfast, and found the city in turmoil. Newspapers were selling new editions so fast that the sidewalks were almost littered with old ones, and he had no difficulty in checking up on the event* of the Black Hawk scare. The postoffice had been bombed; Ava Breen had received a threatening note; a man had killed himself after supposedly trying to bomb union station, Major Martyne had been atacked twice, and a police detective had been murdered with a hand ax in Martvne's suite. It was a diversion, Beaumont commented to himself; he had been afraid of finding Indianapolis somewhat dull after Greenwich village. He watched a humpbacked woman with a beautiful face feeding the pigeons outside on Monument circle. mam C’TRANGE, Beaumont thought, such a beautiful spot in the business district. He liked tfte pigeons. Indianapohx -cromroads of the nation; almost the center of population of the United State*; home and inspiration of James Whitcomb Riley, Booth Tarktngton and countless other*; native city of Roy Howard, one of the nation’s greatest newspaper men; city of countless convention* apparently at the mercy of an agent of destruction! It seemed incredible ... he shivered. He. was standing near a man in laborer s clothes, who did not look like a laborer. Beaumont shivered . . m m m 808 MARTYNE threw open the hall door, revolver ready for Instant action. Thera was no one in sight. But he had heard a whispering sound—some one had been outside a moment earlier. Quinnstin had been dead only a few minutes. His slayer was certainly still in the imrfiediate vicinity. He might have intended to enter Bob s room. At the telephone Bob got the hotel detective. He quickly explained the situation to him. “Can you block the exists?” he asked. “Keep this quiet, but don't let any one get out until the hotel has been searched.’’ “That’s easy,” the detective replied. “There are four of our men down here now'. We were watching and didn’t see anybody suspicious.” Half an hour later the hotel had been efficiently searched, and no trace of any outsider had been found. Bob studied the angle of the hatchet, and whistled under his breath. The hatchet had not come from behind Quinnstin; it had come from in front of him. And. since he was standing, and awake, he must inevitably have seen his slayer—unless. . . . Bob stared through the open window. Ten feet beyond it, across the angle of the building wing, was the open hall window. He turned to the detective beside him. 1 The murderer never got into this suite,” he said. “The weapon that killed Quinnstin was thrown at him -from that window!” mum UP to this time Bob had little proof of Black Hawk’s especial interest in him. Certainly Black Hawk had no reason to fear him, so far as investigative progress went. Bob had got nowhere up to this timte—twenty-four hours after he hah been given his assignment. Black Hawk had worsted him in every combat, It was not until after the medical men had arrived, and assigned the death to “person or persons unknown; weapon: small ax or hatchet, possibly thrown.” that Bob had time to study the murder weapon. It was such a handax as may be purchased in any hardware store, although of more than usually graceful design. “Look here” Bob exclaimed. “The shaft has been hollowed out a little.” The handle had a small opening at the end. and in it was a rolled squib of paper. Bob unrolled it with a hand that was none too steady; he knew what signature it would bear. He was not. however, prepared for the message above the signature. (To Be Continued 1

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

QUAQTER. KINGSTON LEADING CPACKS KINGSTON'S BOBBY. >bo REPLACE CPASU TjJE FIBST PLAY A 1 P TAM TOOTDA JOCK SUTHERLAND BY 20 "toO* DETERMINED To A POINT STURDY DEFENSE ONCE TOO SNAP ’EM UP...IM GOING To SEND KINGSTON! MAN DROPS BACK- VLtnll I \J\J I DHLL FAJJOUS PUT COACH OP DESPERATION, CRASH SMACKS OFF OFTEN... HE'S LED OFF lU£ VoU BACkr ,M ' PICKLES. G ET SWO OT A SHORT PASS ... ty VrKricm 7TT j ’T"' ” LEFT TACKLE LIKE A TON OF T.NT “ FIELD WITU A WRENCHED OUT THERE NOW AND GET ) l oou OUT / men getlot ot poundmg when J so M6B o.v S ) rn , , 1 MELs-eur-wosM.! V X f *>&*'. s\ take it ) ' v y £\y\ ran cut rW* the th.nceW injury I EASY? f S' Y \ l i The only wy lo gtjsrH dirtv wwlc in rnd/J v) vwlSw v - 7 J C'ftCM) C ) p3eup and m tsclding i* lo voiH it s much

WASHINGTON TUBBS II

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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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TARZAN THE APE MAN

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The pin-head savages herded their prisoners into canoes and shoved off. As the dwarfs paddled down the swift stream, drums began to be faintly heard in the distance. The captives listened with growing alarm. Jean said: The drums are getting louder."

Be9m today? pp ' ng f Use Our "Layaway" ] dc^T/ ay S res I ! RS

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

Holt called across to her: "We’re getting nearer." "Nearer W’hat?" asked the girl. "The quary," I guess." replied Holt, shrugging. Jean was silent, dreading the unknown fate awaiting thepi. Amid the Jabbering of the savages they went rapidly down river, the drums growing constantly louder.

—By Ahem

OUT OUR WAY

f ‘SAY. 808, VUHtLE YOU'RE fOH AV- TELL MtM WCITING TO COUSIN' WALTER, TO TELL EPF IE TV-1 AT TELL HIM TO TELL AUNT c,*DIE V. 1 THINH I CAW GET I'M GONG TO SENO SOME HER A JO© IN OUR CLOTHES VOU 'VE OUTGROWW, TH AT \ OFFICE - ASW IF SM£'S \ WILL DO FOR FRAWKIE TO WEAR )—( FaiRLV GOOO ON A V AROUND THE FARM AMO TELL— l TYPEWRITER— SHE'D \ V —t—7 ' MAVE TO USE ONE \ ' 1 TELL HIM TO TELL \ A LITTLE. TELL HER S&mm. UNCLE ART THAT \ THERE’S A GIRL GOING Z&T'm X CAN PICK HIM UP TO QUIT THE LAST &L A FIWE USED CAR OF TH’MONTH, AN!? TO W Y j \ FOR A SONG TELL Wfrjfc'i) \ LET ME KNOW RIGHT \ ' < */ \ HIM it's ONLY BEEN \ SO I CAN -j .—.—. tm •• s **’ o—. 'jj

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After the pin-heads had brutally thrown Chita, the monkey, back to shore, he ran along the bank and now swam out toward the canoe in which Jean sat. Unmolested, she managed to pull him, dripping. to her side. There he huddled, whimpering and excited

-By Edgar Rice Burroughs

She tried to comfort him. "Poor little Chita,’* she said softly, stroking him, "you don't know what it's all about, do you? Tarzan could tell you—he know." The monkey looked up t her, suddenly quiet as she said “Tarzan.” She took it up and w’hispered: "Tarzan-Tarzan!"

PAGE 19

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Hamlin

—By Martin