Indianapolis Times, Volume 45, Number 199, Indianapolis, Marion County, 29 December 1933 — Page 21

DJEC. 29, 1933_

yk UNKNOWN BLOND j Rv Laura Lou BROOKMAN CiTOww.iL"c

BEGIN HERE TODAY * On ■ utortnv evening DAVID BANWISTER meets a pretty bfond girl , and offer* per * lift m the cab in which i he it riding Her handbag opens and he Sees a revolver inside Next, morning Bannister rad* that 1 TRACY KINO, orchestra leader In a movie thea'er. has been found dead In 1 hla apartment P irchlng for i an “unknown blond ' who visited King the right before Bannister remember- j Ing the girl n the •axirab. Is purzled He sees her again that morning The girl tella hia uHT FRANCE and that she knows nothing of the murder. .. , , He goes go see his Oid friend. JIM PAXTON, editor of the Tremont Post, and arranges to work on the King murder case for the Pov Paxton introduces J RANDOLPH GAINEY, star reporter While they are talking the assistant city editor calls. ‘ They ve lust brought the* girl ini" NOW GO ON WITH THE. STORY CHAPTER SIX (Continued) He did not finish the sentence, j A pair of eyes of unusual blueness searched Paxton's. J. Randolph Gainey was slender and slightly below average height. His cheeks and j the ridge of his nose were amply sprinkled with the freckles that so often accompany red hair and a fair skin. J. Randolph Gainey was 22 years old. but he had packed into those 22 years a list of activities that was amazing. Confidence and energy' he never lacked. One subject, and only one, was there on which J. Randolph Gainey was susceptible to the world's darts and that, at least in the office of the newspaper, vas unguessed. No one on the Post knew that the “J’’ in the wirey little reporter’s name stood for Jeremiah. No one j would ever know,it if it were possible for J. Randolph Gainey to prevent it. “Gainey," Jim Paxton was saying. “this Is Mr. Bannister—David Bannister. Used to work here. Since then he’s been to New York | and written some novels and made a name for himself. Been to Mexico, too, and Hollywood and I don’t know where all.” ana A CHEERFUL grin overspread . the reporter’s face. “Sure,” he said. "I saw the picture they made from ‘Cheerful Liar’. Called it ’Slave of Desire’, didn’t they? It was a good picture, too. I heard that you were in Tremont—" “Wait a minute,” Paxton said, “I’d better get Austin.” Austin was the assistant city editor, carrying on in place of his chief. In another moment the four men stood together while Paxton explained Bannister’s status as a sort of ex-olficio member of the staff.: Austin was nodding understandingly; and Gainey looked perplexed. Some; of this perplexity faded as Paxton repeated. “It’s still your story, | Gainey. Bannister's not to write any of the copy He’s to work with you, take part of the burden. Who’s down at headquarters now, by the way?” “Cunningham.” Austin informed him. “I came in to write the lead,” Gainey explained. He glanced at the clock on the opposite wall—a quick, nervous glance. “Guess I’d better be getting back,” he went on. “Bannister will go with you.” Paxton spoke tersely. “And see if you can’t get something this time! Make Henley talk. He must have something he's holding back!. Try to get the description of that girl they’re looking for. How r do they expect to find her if they don’t let us know what she looks like? For God's sake, give us something new for the final —!” A telephone shrilled, interrupting. A loud voice called. “Austin! It’s Cunningham on the wire. From headquarters!” The assistant city eitor ran to the desk and picked up the instrument. “Hello, hello!” he said nervously. “Yes—this is Austin.” The others drifted nearer, as though drawn by an irresistible force. Now Austin was pulling copy paper toward him, one hand holding the receiver to his ear “Yes.” he said excitedly. “I got it. Go on!” With a quick halfturn toward Paxton he exclaimed “They’ve

jQf^^WWORTH 7w/s Curious World Ferguson j ■ ■ DUBING THE TWELFTH TO EIGHTEENTH CENTURy ( i A IT WAS A COMMON PRACTICE TO BURY h.[ THE HEART IN IG'rTTT^Sw I: A SEPARATE CASKET L£\* H. CMI ANCIENT BOOKS ON 8180 / j®/ “ ] LIFE SAID THAT OSTRICHES fU |/£ LIVEO ON A DIET OF /RON/ \ >T fjk *7/ 0) I •—y, 'W^/r rSTENOGASTER Njf WASP >< BUILDS rrs HOUSE ON THE END OF A Uv A LIMB, AND FASTENS GUARDS ABOVB YU\ AS A PROTECTION AGAINST ANTS. n .tf CARLY PICTURES of ostriches showed them calmly swallowing such objects as horseshoes, keys, etc. But the early, imaginative naturalists, who assured us that the birds ate nothing but iron, did not explain where this diet was to be found on the African plains. JKEXT—Whj does a cowboy *w high heels? _ I .

just brought that girl in—the one they've been looking for!” CHAPTER SEVEN During the taxicab ride to police headquarters, J. Randolph Gainey drew a package of cigarets from his pocket and held them toward Bannister. “Have one?” he offered. Bannister took the cigaret. “This girl—?” he said, and then stopped ; because he could not go on. The reporter struck a match and ; held it forward. “Light?” he offered. Bannister accepted the light. Gainey touched the match to his own cigaret. "It was fast work!” he commented. “I thought myself all that line about the mysterious blond suspect was just a stall. Especially when Henley wouldn’t give us the description.” “Do you think she did it? The girl. I mean?” The reporter shrugged. “How should I know? Tracy King must have had plenty of girl friends all right. Probably wasn’t above giving them a dirty deal either. The rat!’ Gainey spat viciously into the air. “I hate crooners,” he said. “But why are they so sure the girl did it?” “That.” said the other quietly, “you will have to get from your friend. Pol.ce Chief James Adolphus Henley.” The cab turned a corner and a moment more drew up at the curb. Gainey flashed a card in the taxi driver's face and dashed into the building, followed by Bannister. “Where's McNeal?” Gainey demanded of the sergeant at the desk. “Upstairs. They’re all up there.” Two steps at a time Gainey mounted the stairs. Bannister was only a few feet behind, his breath coming rapidly. On the second floor the reporter turned left down a corridor. Half way to the end, a door opened ahead of them and a dark figure appeared. “Cunningham!” Gainey exclaimed.' “Where is she?” a a a THE man in the dark suit nodded. “In there,” he said. "Steve Fisher’s talking to her.” “Did you see her? Talk to her? Did Sid get any pictures?” ‘Sure. I gave the whole story to Austin over the phone. They’ve had her husband here all morning, only they didn’t let any one know it.’” “Her husband?” It was Bannister who cut in sharply. “They're trying to get a confession from him,” Cunningham went on as though he hadn’t heard, “but they’ll never do that. That guy’a too dumb to pull a murder.” “Say, wait a minute!” The diminutive Gainey’s voice rasped harshly. “I’d like to know what this is all about. This morning we had the murder pinned on an unknown blond damsel. Now you say they’ve got her husband ” The older man regarded him for a moment. "That's another one,” he said shortly. “Oh, they’re still looking for her. This dame’s an usher at the State. Name is Carlotta Scurlach—ain’t It a peach? Her husband’s Herman Scurlach. “Last night they found a letter Scurlach wrote to King, threatening to get him if he sang a certain song again. The guy, Scurlach, is jealous of this crooner, see? And the name of the song is “Listen, Carlotta”—the same name as Scurlach’s wife. There was a lot of other stuff in the letter about how King had better leave the girl alone. Well, last night King did sing the song—at the first performance. He left the theater after that and he never came back.” “We know all about that,” Gainey interrupted. “How about the letter? Did you see it?” Cunningham nodded. “Sid took a picture of it. Got one of the girl, too, when they brought her in. She's darned pretty. Spanish, I guess, or maybe Italian. Dark hair and eyes—” (To Be Continued)

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

‘BOBBY "BURN'S.' AVH.I.M3S. j OH,CORK UR. W ? A ON "THE &-ROUNB,EG,N-D!-mW, ]( \ NOUR JL U TEN TO JH'S-UMT’-KAFE- U, COJAtSTO Trf ] 'YY MA.'R-'U-'R-'RUNAP AVA WAD SCOTCH—"BUT i} WITH TH\ fl ‘SON / \L POO-OOER THE G'TTIE. { TRY TO ) Y>\A\_fcCT, WtD l GIE US TAE SEE OORSILLSYV TAIX IT? YOUR { > AS ITWE-RS SEE UE?" )\ TDIAV-ECT IS H E-E-GAD? ISK’T THAT A GEM?LI _ TERR\TTC- ) Y " 8 ) ~1 them*,hark to This—

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

f NEED AMY WEIP? I NO,THAWS -I TWIMUC I CAM MUV Aft? X ALWAYS FIGURE THAT f ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS ( YOU SEE....WHEN TUE WHEEL C COSU. I BET THE ONLY CAW GO INTO SUADYSIDE \ GET OUT BY MYSELF—BUT I YVY ’ IP A GAR GETS YoU INTO Ml LOOP THE ROPE. AROUND REVOLVES, THE ROPE WINDS UP )( YOU'D WEED TD AWD HAVE A MECHANIC J COULD USE A TOWLINE, IF l I IF SOMETWIMC IT’S UP 70 Jffl THE. HUB AND TIE IT TO A ON THE HUB, J JST ENOUGH TO j) . -„ =I ‘ ' ~, BPING A TOVJCAR JL V Ol> HAVE OWE* 1 rloAn M SPOKE. THEN, WITH THE G'VE THE CAR MOMENTUM-' / * PEC *^ v- OUT HERE! S y-' W THe SAME CAR 70 rfß “ < OTHER END OF THE ROPE THATS ALL I NEED \ AND J Y VNOULD SE A HAIRPIN <

WASHINGTON TUBBS il

f DON’T SE SAPS! \ / HO HOf NOT POP US. WE’RE ) /YOU IDIOTSf Y 'AT WAS A BEE. THE \ SAVE YOUR MONEY. J ( GUNMA HAVE A TIME • ntsaL DON’T FORGET GRASSHOPPER HADASWELL INVEST IT. 60 / -r jr—--<kTl/ THE FABLE TIME KICKIN' UP HIS HEELS , INTO BUSINESS. / / \ / <\ ABOUT THE ALL SUMMER- AN' TH* BEE / ! | £u r - L GRASSHOPPER. ) ONLY TO HAVE SOMESMART ...

ALLEY OOP,

SUT-MOST GORGEOUS QUEEN, V LISTEN - NOW,GET THIS, VOU WEAK-KNEED IVifek W IT'S MADNESS to GO FURTHER into | YAHOOS? I'M IN CHARGE OF THIS EXPFDITIOnJLvS? war A a the JUNGLE ? THINK OF THE WILD, /\. AN' we aint COIN' BACK TILL \ GET M m OiHOS,W,S'

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

r I I ~\ ( "N WHAT 1 CAMGT GET STRAIGHT | OW,PPOBAB\_Y WELL .1 GOEGG THAT CLEARS EGERNTVWNiG\ \G, \E THE. GCO'JNOREL WAG | WE \MAS 1 BECAME VOWEM T. BACK HOME ,WOW COME 1 fj D\G6U\GEO *. HEARD FROM THE GOOTH AFRICAN V. DIDN'T GEE 'lV\ ? 1 AHiT : THOGE B\ROG AOTHORTVEG ! VOO GEE , T. MADE 1 VAIGGED A OAV OOmJM J CANi MAKE OP INLEGTT6ATIONG AT BOTH E.W>DG> TOW Vi GHNCE THE j I GO THE\R r --

TARZAN THE INVINCIBLE

As Numa's cry was heard far off in the jungle, Mangani, the great apes, became restless. To-yat, the king ape. beat his breast and bared his great fangs. Ga-yat hunched his powerful shoulders. The shes called their balus to them and tock to the branches of the trees.

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At this moment an almost naked white man dropped among them from the foliage of a tree. Roaring and snarling, the herd rushed upon the hated man-thing. “To-yat has a short memory,” said the man in the tongue of the Mangani. The ape paused. “I am To-yat,” he growled.

—By Ahern

OUT OUR WAY

■ I OFFEN WISH THAT! WELL,IT WOULDN'T 1 OFFEN FIND MYSELF £ DO US ANJV GOOD. WISHIKJ' THEY'D FIND | SO DO NT INCLUDE US LAYIN’ ALONG HERE, \A ME IN YOUR FROZE. TO DEATH, SOME DAY. THEN THEY'D CUT Jfe! OUT TH 'S school business, ' . # BORN THIRTY YEARS TOO SOOM. 1933 BY NtA SERVICE. INC. J

f ( THAT'S NOT 1 / WELL, ANVWAV, NOBODY EVER / SAME HERE. LET THE BEES \THE STORY. 7 ( ENVIED BEES OR ANTS HAVIN’ —-n HOARD ALL THE HONEY THEY WANT. Y \ \TO WORK ALLA TIME-1 DRATHER I \ WE'LL EAT OURS. MIGHT NOT / W \ \BE A HAPPY-GO-UJCKY OLD ,- \ BE SMART. SISTER, BUT IT'S A — —

s pat, ocr y

1 RECEVOED PROOF ,BEYOND VE AH UJELL. HtG GHOGT OH , ONCLE \RA VMAGKfC GOCH THE GHADOVO OF A DOoBT, laJON’T WAVK EAR. ’.HE I A BAD GORT , REALLY—THAT OOP REAL UNCLE J MGON'T GET AWAY ,TH\G % BUT . GWEKi OH . WEIE

A great hairy mother screamed as a mighty lion, with Nkima on his back, stalked through the brush, for Numa was their ancient foe. Suddenly, the ape man spoke. "Little Nkima,” he whispered, and the monkey gave one prodigious leap on to his shoulder.

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

But the apes were slow to realize that the manthing was their friend. The great bulls advanced, their fangs bared. “I am To-yat," growled the leader. “You do not belong here in our country. I kill.” “Kill, kill!” the great apes bellowed. “Kill, kill the white thing!”

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—By Williams

—By glosser

—By Crane

—By Hamlf^

—By: Martin