Indianapolis Times, Volume 46, Number 18, Indianapolis, Marion County, 1 June 1934 — Page 31

JUNE 1, 1934

The Amateur Gentleman Py Jeffrey Farnol-

BEGIN HERE TODAY Recelviing an inheritance of seven hundred thousand pounds, Barnabas Barty, son of John Barty, the former champion prize fighter of England, decides to become a gentleman rather than follow the fighting game. He bests his father In a duel of fists as the climax of a quarrel over the son s cheice of a career. Natty Bell, another former champion, has aided the father in training voung Barty to use his fists. After the fight. Barnabas changes his first name to Beverley and on his way to London meets among others uie Cap’n. the Bosun and young Horatio Beilasis. a gentleman, and friend ol Sir Mortimer Carnaby. Finding Sir Mortimer, whom he did not know at the time, leering over tne form of a voung woman apparently unconscious as a result of a fall from a horse, voung Bartv knocks out the intruder in a fight, and revives the young woman. He leaves without learning her name, but picks up a handkerchief which she. intrigued bv her rescuer, leaves on a bush. The trip to London continues with voung Beilasis as a companion. Beverly tests his companion in a battle ot fists. After the lie had been passed over the ability of the prizefighter’s son. the combatants remain friends. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY INSTALLMENT TWENTY-SEVEN (Continued) “Beatrix?” said Barnabas to himself. “In time; ah! and pray who’d believe it? You ran away from me—but you ran away with me—first! In time? Did you father believe it, that virtuous old miser? would any one, who saw us together, believe it? No, Beatrix, I tell you all the world knows you for my—” “Stop!” A momen’t silence and then came a soft, gently amused laugh. “Lord, Beatrix, how handsome you are! —handsomer than ever, begad! I'm doubly fortunate ’to have found you again. Six years is a long time, but they’ve only matured you —ripened you. Yes, you’re handsomer than ever; upon my life and soul you are!” But here came the sudden rush of flying draperies, the sound of swift, light footsteps, and Barnabas was aware of the door behind him being opened, closed and bolted, and thereafter, the repressed sound of a woman's passionate weeping. Therefore he rose up from the settee, and glancing over his high back, beheld Clemency. Almost in the same moment she saw him, and started back to the wall, glanced from Barnabas to the open lattice, and covered her face with her hands. And now not knowing what to do, Barnabas crossed to the window and, being there, looked out, and thus espied again the languid gentleman, strolling up the lane, w r ith his beaver hat cocked at the same jaunty angle, and swinging him betassled stick as he went. u n n “’VT'OU'—you heard, then!” said .Clemency, almost in a whisper. “Yes,” answered Barnabas, without turning; “but being a great rascal he probably lied.” “No, it is—quite true—l did run away with him, but oh! indeed, indeed I left him again before —before —” “Yes, yes.” said Barnabas, a little hurriedly, aware that her face was still hidden in her hands,'though he kept his eyes studiously averted. Then all at once she was beside him, her hands were upon his arm, pleading, compelling; and thus she forced him to look at her, and, though her checks yet burned, her eyes met his, frank and unashamed. “Sir,” said she, “you do believe that I—that I found him out in time —that I—escaped his vileness —you must believe—you shall!” and her slender fingers tightened on his arm. "Oh, tell me—tell me, you believe ! ” “Yes,” said Barnabas, looking down into the troubled depths of her eyes; “yes. I do believe.” The compelling hands dropped from his arm, and she stood before him, staring out blindly into the glory of the morning; and Barnabas could not but see how the tears glistened under her lashes; also he noticed how her brown, shapely hands gripped and wrung each other.

This Curious World Ferguson

America has two larks... 7/kmo&NLmc /WHICH % IS NOT A ZAAM AT ALL, Js&SrSfiSr*'* J BUT A RELATIVE OF / THE CROW AND / o THE BLUE JAY... , HORNED' which is 'y&or\' ~ / A TRUE LARK, BUT IS NOT HOAM&D/ THE "HORNS* ' ARE ONLY TUFTS OF FEATHERS, * : ' ■*' e 19 BY NCA SERVICE, INC. fc.|

EACH tapping of the rubber tree yields about one fluid ounce of latex, which makes about one-third of an ounce of dry rubber. An acre of rubber trees will yield approximately one pound of rubber per day. NEXT—What frog rarely, if ever, comes to the surface of the water X

“Sir,” said she suddenly; “you are a friend of—Viscount Devenham.” “I count myself so fortunate.” “And—therefore—a gentleman.” ‘lndeed, it is my earnest wish.” “Then you will promise me that, should you ever hear anything spoken to the dishonor of Beatrice Darville, you will deny it.” “Yes,” said Barnabas, smiling a little grimly, “though I think I should and than that.” Now when he said this, Clemency looked up at him suddenly, and in eyes there was a glow no tears could quench; her lips quivered, but no words came, and then, all at once, she caught his hand, kissed it, and so was gone, swift and light, and shy as any bird. And, in a while, happening to spy his letter on the table. Barnabas sat down and wrote out the superscription w T ith many careful flourishes, which done, observing his hat near by, he took it up, brushed it absently, put it on, and went out into the sunshine. Yet when he had gone but a very little way, he paused, and seeing he still carried the letter in his hand, thrust it into his breast, and so remained staring thoughtfully towards that spot, green and shady with trees, where he and the viscount had talked with the Apostle of Peace. And with his gaze bent thitherwards he uttered a name, and the name was: “Beatrix.” INSTALLMENT TWENTY-EIGHT BARNABAS walked on along the lane, head on breast, plunged in a profound reverie, and following a haphazard course, so much so that, chancing presently to look about him, he found that the lane had narrowed into a rough cart track that wound away between high banks gay with wild flowers, and crowned with hedges, a pleasant, shady spot, indeed, as any thoughtful man could wish for. Now as he walked, he noticed a dry ditch—a grassy, and most inviting ditch; therefore Barnabas sat him down therein, leaning his back against the bank. “Beatrix!” said he, again, and thrusting his hands into his pockets he became aware of the “priceless wollum.” Taking it out, he began turning its pages, idly enough, and eventually paused at one headed thus: “THE CULT OF DRESS” But he had not read a dozen words when he was aware of a rustling of leaves' near by, that was not of the wind, and then the panting of breath drawn in painful gasps; and, therefore, having duly marked his place with a finger, he raised his head and glanced about him. As he did so, the hedge, almost opposite, was burst asunder and a man came slipping down the bank, and, regaining his feet, stood staring at Barnabas and panting. A dusty, bedraggled wretch he looked, unshaven and unkempt, with quick, bright eyes that gleamed in the pale oval of his face. “What do you want?” Barnabas demanded. “Everything!” the man panted, with the ghost of a smile on his pallid lips; “but—the ditch would do.” “And why the ditch?” “Because they’re—after me.” “Who are?” “Gamekeepers!” “Then, you're a poacher?” “And a very clumsy one— they had me once—close on me now.” “How many?” “Two.” “Then—hum!—get into the ditch,” said Barnabas. Now the ditch, as has been said, was deep and dry, and next moment, the miserable fugitive was hidden from view by reason of this, and of the grasses and wild flowers that grew luxuriantly there; seeing which, Barnabas went back to his reading. To Be Continued.)

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

YOU m WE iijl BETTER }! iSH THE ’OP THESE 1 IDWICHES 3RETHEY rouT-^ AVE YOU 0

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

r~ ] W\ jf. NONE OTHER ) WHV. THIS WHOLEj WELL.I'LL BE POCCONEP.'/ I V ESSET* J NOT \ GO.HG -IO TAKE UPI.S THERE ANV IM- M SAT, SIB!/ Jj JHEM. PROPPED PPOM a , VVMO WILL DO my ABNER YOU IN LIKE A DIVIDUAL SO INFAMOUS WHAT HAVE J|g ' C PICTURE OF \ j LEGAL WORK J BLACkSTfcNE 36 CORSET ON THAT YOU WOULDN’T J \OU BEEN gjp / / OICK*..' J

WASHINGTON TUBBS II

/rPoLLOWiNe THE EX.PLC6IONS, MEN AN[s\ ( (””/ l t IfWOMEN PCXJE OUT OF THE BANK. T C >

ALLEY OOP

THROW THIS W HEV-WA\T a WHILE/ f OHf Y'ARE, ARE YA P WHYNCHA 1 HA\RV-PACED BUNS OUT \ A\NT A BUNS'. I'M A SAV SO? SQUAT'S THAT OL' fl L ON H\S EAR f MESSENGER FROM TH' SELLER IN’ BIOWHARD * Jm ROYAL COURT ©FHIS MAJESTY, GOT TO SAV,THAT / ST'S A ■ ■g KING GUZZLE, GRAND r WOULD BE OF PRIVATE ’ I wi^ERVJ OMESSAGE0MESSAGE FOR

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

/ a p~jJ| 9k ! LETS SEE ,1 TOLD EOOTG ID MEET HER GOSH ,L HOPE 1M NOT P | AT THREE ,ANO \Ts "-OHH-OH'. MV A LATE l’o BETTER CHEGY kljjyj i WSTCrt HMi SW9.H) | u. OW HMt -y'

takzan the invincible

It occurred to Dorsky that perhaps Tarzan did not understand him, so he turned to the tent’s entrance and called to some of the blacks. .“One of you fellows come here,” he said. At first no one would obey, but presently a stalwart warrior advanced.

Shop in the "Buy-Way'—Downstairs at Ayres—Where You SAVE on Everything for Home and Family! mßro

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

“See if this fellow can understand your language,” said Dorsky. “Tell him that I have a proposition to make to him and that he had better listen to it.” “If this is Tarzan of the Apes,” said the black, “he can understand me.” He came warily to the tent entrance.

—By Akern

OUT OUR WAY

/ DON'T LET ANYBODY TAKE ANYTHING/ \ I'LL BE BACK IN FIVE/ V OR SIX HOURS/ / born thirty years TOO soon Cl9j<B^pwh , ?^ s> 6- 1

£t?h e rattle of a machine Gun ECHOED /fnNNLY easy seems TO HAVE the PRESENCE U FROM -THE DEPTHS OF THE BANK. MIND TO /PrCTTr." ka "~T T'*' ■■ 9 A CROWD GATHERS. SOMEONE DO ANYTHING./ QUICK# MANJ W \ SCREAMS. ✓ mmmmmm wJ LOAN ME A PISTOL. I f A 1 - —. 1 rouci^pajct’.

f OHO / SO IT'S A fYOU BALD-HEADED, SLAB-SIDED. OL SECRET, HUH? SSIH ' BUSH TOAD, YOU MAY BE TOUGH, I ANNRIGHT STEP UP BfiP ' - ’ BUT I'M TOUGHER, SEE?!'!? upDc Tm' c,du7 * BUT WELT-, -- NOW,GET THIS, YOU FISHY-EYED 3 ii:aro - ■ . t>c mec 10 - = ■

\ HEY Loo\< ronn\e ifli TE.MGA6EME.NT Oj gettxn* i ' 5^ qus ’'

The black repeated the message in his own dialect, but by no sign did the ape-man indicate that he understood. Dorsky lost his patience. “You needn’t try to make a fool of me!” he cried. “I know you understand this fellow’s gibberish.”

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

“I know, too, that you are an Englishman and that you understand English,” he added in a threatening voice. *‘ITI give you five minutes to think this thing over. If you don’t talk then, you can take the consequences.” Then he turned on his heel and left the tent. . . .

PAGE 31

—By Williams

—By Blosser,

—By Crane

—By Hamlin

—By Martin