Indianapolis Times, Volume 48, Number 32, Indianapolis, Marion County, 17 April 1936 — Page 25

APRIL 17,1936

FINAL SERVICES FOR MRS. CRABB ARE TOMORROW

Wife of Sign. Firm Official Dies After Short Illness. Funeral services for Mrs. Stella Crabb, wife of Cecil Crabb, secre-tary-treasurer of the Staley * Crabb sign firm, are to be held at 4 tomorrow in the Flanner <fe Buchanan Mortuary. Burial will be in Crown Hill. Mrs. Crabb, the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. George Seidensticker, died yesterday in Methodist Hospital after a two weeks illness. Born in Indianapolis, she had lived here her entire life. She was a graduate of Shortridge High School and was married to Mr. Crabb in 1924. Besides the widower and parents, survivors Include three children, James, Cecil Jr. and Rosalyn; two brothers, George and Robert Seidensticker, Indianapolis, and a sister, Mrs. Charles Holton, Shreveport, La. Kramer Rites Monday Funeral services for Mrs. Lillie E. Kramer, 637 West-dr, Woodruff Place, who died last night at her home after an illness of three weeks, are to be conducted Monday at 2 in the First Evangelical Church. The Rev. R. H. Mueller, pastor, is to officiate and burial is to be in Crown Hill. Mrs. Kramer was 67. Born hi East Germantown, she had resided here mast of her life. She was a member of the Evangelical Church, Council of Federated Church Women, Y. W. C. A. and the Wheeler Rescue Mission. Survivors are the widower, Edgar; two daughters, Mrs. Mabel Eberhardt and Mrs. L. D. Mosiman, all residing here; a son, George, West Springfield, Mass.; brothers, Edward of this city, and Charles Snyder of Pasadena, Cal., and nine grandchildren. Former Resident Killed Last rites for Mrs. Ivan Kelly Ross, former local resident, killed in an automobile accident near Denver, Col., Monday, are to be held in the Church of God, Annette and 30thsts, at 2 tomorrow. Burial is to be in Crown Hill. Mrs. Ross, a sister of Mrs. Clara Leigeber, 3863 Park-av, was en route here with her husband, William J. Ross, when the fatal accident occurred. The widower and the sister are the only survivors. Mrs. Ross was born in Kentucky 39 years ago and lived in Anderson before coming here, where she attended the public schools and was graduated from Shortridge High School. She had resided in Detroit since 1917. Mrs. Emma J. Dickens Dead Mrs. Emmp T Dickens, a former resident of Indianapolis, died last Friday in Washington, D. C., according to word received by friends here. Funeral services were held in the Wallace Memorial Church hi Washington Monday and burial was in the Rock Creek Cemetery there. She was the widow of Charles F. Dickens. Before her marriage she was Miss Emma Moffat, sister of Ansil and William J. Moffat, both lifelong residents of Indianapolis. Survivors are a son, Charles, and two sisters, Mrs. Selma A. Tracy and Mrs. Elizabeth M. Getzendanner, all of Washington. Blake Illness Fatal Funeral services are to be held at 3 tomorrow afternoon for John S. Blake, who died yesterday after being ill since Jan. 1. Mr. Blake, custodian of School No. 86 and a member of a pioneer Indiana family, was 70. Born in Indianapolis and a resident here all his life, Mr. Blake was the son of Col. John W. Blake, soldier, pioneer circuit judge, member of the Legislature in 1858, and a promoter of the Belt Railroad. Surviving are a daughter, Mrs. Harold F. Ludwig; a sister, Mrs. Fannie Schweitzer, and two g-and-children, Marilynn and Blake Ludwig, all of Indianapolis. Services are to be conducted at Mrs. Ludwigs home, 1149 V,'. 38thst, by the Rev. Aubrey Moore, Seventh Christian Church pastor. Burial is to be in Crown Hill. Hill Rites Tomorrow Funeral services for Oscar Hull. 3602 W. Michigan-st. who died at his home Wednesday following an illness of two years, are to be held at 2 tomorrow at the McNeeley Funeral Home. Burial is to be in Washington Park Cemetery. Mr. Hull, born in Brownsburg 55 years ago, had been a resident of this city most of his life. He was a member of the Masonic Order, the Scottish Rite and the Mystic Shrine. Survivors are the widow, Mrs. Margaret Hull; two brothers, Ollie and Haskett, all of this city, and a sister, Ada Hull, Spartansburg, S. C. Pocket Picked, Police Told Edwin Sprowl of Louisville, Kv.. had his pocket picked of $35 early today. He did not knew where the theft took place. Miss Margaret Gibson of Madison reported to police that her diamond ring, valued at SIOO. was stolen In the Claypool last night.

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Q s BY LAURA LOU BROOKMAN e ** nea W

BEGIN HERE ODAT Toby Bril, 19, ii i fkotofriphie moJ*l, poiinf for photographs to bt mrd In adrortUmonti. I’nknosrn at first, she la toon in hirh demand in the atadlot, particularly after the la chosen a* "The Hillyer Soap Girl.” Toby shares an apartment with Harriet Holm, another model, engaged to Marry Clyde Sabin, whom Toby distrusts. Wealthy Tim Jamieson showers Toby with attentions for a time, and then aeems to forget her. Toby’s oldest friend is Bill Brandt, who works for an advertising agency. She is fond of Bill, but has never thought of him romantically. Jay Hillyrr, president of the Hillyer company, sees Tony posing for some photographs. He takes her to dinner and later she has frequent engagements with him. Clyde Sabin marries a wealthy widow and breaks the news to Harriet in a letter. Toby and Bill reach the apartment to find Harriet overcome by gas. She recovers, after a serious illness, and goes to the country for a rest. Toby, on her way to a movie one afternoon, meets Tim Jamieson. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO Afterward Toby thought she managed very well. If she hesitated for an instant, if her voice was not quite as level as it should have been, there was no sign of disconcertion in her face as she said. “Well, hello, Tim —what a surprise to see you!’’ “It’s a surprise to see you, too,” he told her, “I thought you must be out of town. You seem to have stopped answering telephone calls; at least you don’t answer when I call.” He would say that, of course. Toby didn't believe that Tim had telephoned. Probably he didn’t expect her to believe it. But, being Tim, he would say it, nevertheless. “I'm sorry,” she told him regretfully—politely regretfully as one is, speaking to an acquaintance rather than to a friend. "If you called and no one answered, I must have been out somewhere. Harriet’s away, so there’s no one to take messages.” “Where’s Harriet?” “Up in the country. She’d been working too hard and needed a rest.” a a a THE traffic light flashed Ted then, and they crossed the street. “Where’s you bound for, Gorgeous,” Tim asked. She changed her plans abruptly. She didn’t want to say that she was going to a movie to escape the heat. So, instead, she said, “57th-st. It’s the day for the beauty shop.” “Beauty shop! That’s the last place I’d say you’d need to go.” Once the compliment would have thrilled her. Now Toby knew how easily Tim said such things—and how little they meant. “Oh, there’s always the upkeep,” she told him lightly. Tim turned to her appraisingly. “I don’t think you need to woivy about the original job or the upkeep. either. As it happens, 7’m headed in the same direction myself. Mind if I walk along with you?” “Os course not.” They went on in silence for several moments. Suddenly Tim said. "Oh, by the way, Gorgeous, I’ve noticed you’ve taken to decorating the news stands. Decorating them very nicely, too. That picture of you on the cover of (he named a widely circulated magazine) last week was a knockout." “Thanks. That was one of Duryea’s pictures. I liked it myself.”

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“TT was a beauty!” Tim said enX thusiastically. “And you can take that more than one way.” Oh, yes, flattery came easily to him. Why hadn’t she understood long before that words spoken so easily must be as lightly meant? “This is the place,” she said. “This is where I leave you. It’s nice to have seen you, Tim —” “Wait a minute,” he said. “How about hunting up a cool roof this evening, doing a bit of dancing, maybe? Don’t you think it’s time we did something like that? I do.” She shook her head, smiling. “Sorry, Tim, but I couldn’t. I’m going to be busy tonight.” “Then how about tomorrow?” “I’m afraid not—” “Have a heart, Gorgeous!” he urged. “I’ve been trying to see you for weeks; honestly I have. Don’t turn me down, now that I’ve found you. Come on—let’s make it a date for tomorrow!” “But I can’t, Tim. Really. I’ve got i date for tomorrow.” “Can't you break it?” “Not very well.” “You mean you don’t want to. Is that the idea?” “No, that’s not it —” a a a WHY was she denying it, since it was true? She didn’t have a date for tonight or the next night either. She was saying she had because she had made up her mind she would not let Tim Jamieson coax her into agreeing to see him again. “Well, maybe you’ll change your mind,” Tim suggested. “Girls have been known to do that. Anyhow, I’m going to give you a call tomorrow.” “All right. You can do that. Good-by, Tim.” “ ’Bye, Gorgeous. Remember you’ll be hearittg from me.” Toby went into the building and stepped into an elevator. Since she was here, she decided, she might as well go up and let Charles do her hair. On such a hot afternoon there would be no difficulty about an appointment. And she really hadn't wanted to see that movie, anyhow. Sitting with the waves carefully pressed into her hair, waiting for them to dry, Toby made up her mind about one thing. She would not stay home, waiting for Tim Jamieson to telephone. She had done that once; she would never do it again. Tim’s part in her life had come to a finish and it was going to stay that way. Probably he wouldn’t call. Whether he did or not, she would not be home. a a a FOR two days she invented excuses to keep her away from the apartment. She went on shopping trips. She had a call from the Models’ League and spent several hours —the hottest part of a terrifically hot day—bundled up in one fur coat after another, posing before a camera. The coats would not ap;>ear in shops until August, but they had to be photographed in June. She lingered in the League office, lunched with a girl she did not particularly like. Bill Brandt took her to a play she had said she wanted to see, but the, night was so warm neither of them enjoyed the performance. Finally, Toby’s sense of humor came to her rescue. It was ridiculous to stay away from home because of Tim, and suddenly she saw' that. Probably he hadn’t called, or, if

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

BY LAURA LOU BROOKMAN \ C i j* Vasa u™., u*.

he had, and had received no answer, there was little likelihood that he would call again. Besides, she could always find an excuse for not seeing him. With this decision made, Toby slipped back into the old routine. She was at home one morning, inspecting a pair of sealed white sandals and trying to decide whether or not they were worth dyeing, when the bell from the entrance downstairs rang sharply. a a a IT must be the postman with a X letter from Harriet. One letter had arrived several days ago—a letter that described “Aunt Abigail” Dinwiddie, Aunt Abigail’s cooking, her comfortable, old-fashioned home and the little town of Plainsville, all with equal enthusiasm. Toby, anxious for more news, hurried down the stairs. She opened the door of the tiny vestibule—and faced Tim Jamieson. “Hello, Gorgeous,” he said, grinning. “I’ve given up trying to reach you by phone. Decided to come myself. Run upstairs and get your bonnet. You and I are going on a picnic.” How had he known that a picnic would be irresistible? “I’d love it,” Toby said, raising shining eyes, “The car’s waiting and the lunch is packed. Hurry up and get that bonnet on—” * Already Toby was on her way upstairs. She called over h<?r shoulder, “I’ll hurry!” She put on a dress of yellow linen and tied back her hair with a yellow scarf. She slipped on low, flatheeled shoes, caught up a sweater, and was back. The roadster at the curb was new. “Like it?” Tim asked, grinning. a a a SHE climbed inside and Tim took the wheel. Across the bridge to Long Island. Along hot streets, past tired-looking buildings, with the air gradually growing fresher, less stiffiing. On and on until presently the ribbon of pavement was bordered on either side with green. On until there was the blue water of the Sound and waves beating against the shore and a breeze that was cool! Tim unpacked the lunch—cold chicken, salad, a thermos of iced coffee, a magnificent chocolate cake and fruit. After lunch they lingered lazily for a while, then set off to “explore.” When they were tired of this they came back to ihe picnic spot. Toby settled herself comfortably, leaning back against a tree and staring off across the blue water. Tim stretched out, full-length, pillowing his head on his arms. Suddenly he sat up boldly. “I

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know,” ne said almost roughly, “why you’re never at home any more when I call. It's Jay Hillyer! There's something I've got to know,

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Gorgeous. Just how much does Hillyes, mean to you?” (To Be Continned)

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