Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 8 December 1936 — Page 22
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BY ROBERT DICKSON (1936, NEA Service, Inc.) is BEGIN HERE TODAY ~ Marcela Canfield, daughter of wealthy Canfield, meets Bruce McDougall, shortly after the mysterious disof Frank Kendrick, to whom had been engaged. When shortare found in Kendrick’'s business Marcia is mere shocked than . en. She realizes she was never 8 Jove with him. is attentive until Dorothy Osbe who dislikes Marcia, leads him “140 believe Marcia is engaged to another
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~" Thure is a bank holdup and police _ tommandeer the Canfield car to follow . $he bandits. The. car is wrecked and i) Mareia and her father are injured. - gall, driving with Dorothy, arrives ~ on the scene and takes Marcia and her An to the hospital. * Their injuries are slight. Although : Marcia’s arm is in a sling, she takes : part in the amateur play, “Half-Acre in Eden,” a short time afterward. A New | York producer attends the performance ~~ and offers Dorothy Osborn a part in his new production. _ Marcia plans a party for Dorothy. Deeply touched, Dorothy confesses her Jong-standing jealousy, and the conver‘sation results in a new understanding Between the two girls. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR URING the remainder of the
#= week Marcia busied herself with plans for the Saturday: night party celebrating Dorothy Osborn’s
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decided, with Helen Waddell, whose help she Lad enlisted, to deliver the “invitations by telephone, and together they made out the list. First, of course, the other mem“bers of the cast of “Half-Acre in “Eden.” Then the committees which ‘had shared in producing the play, and after that the rest of the membership of the Stagecraft Guild. Thus the total Guild membership of nearly 200 was on the list of prospective guests, and, though ‘some would - probably be unable to attend, Marcia decided to invite no outsiders, since even Philip Canfield's spacious home had its limits. Yet, as she and Helen commenced the tedious task of telephoning each name on the list, it was not long before Marcia had made an exception. The name .Bradford was, of course, near the top, and Marcia was soon talking with Joan.
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” HE party's a grand idea,” Joan said enthusiastically, “and Ill pe tickled to death to come. I hope ‘1 can drag Mike out. You know how he is about parties. He'll try ‘to alibi out of going, as usual. . . . Say, Marcia! I could let the old ‘sourpuss have nis way and bring . Bruce McDougall.” Marcia explained the necessity for yestricting the guests to members the Guild. But even as she spoke she was conscious of wanting, very uch, to invite the artist. Why not make one exception? “Bring Mr. McDougall along any“way,” Marcia said then. “Don’t tell “him he’s the one outsider. And bring Mike, too, of course, if hell ‘gome.” Joan Bradford .called Bruce McDougall immediately. Mike, she said, couldn’t take her to the party ~—she did not mention that Mike had not yet been questioned on the - matter—and she must, therefore, ‘be squired by the artist or be utterly
esolated.
# 8 = } Fd ¢cDOUGALL accepted, with £, more cordiality in his voice
“than in his heart, and wondered, immediately after replacing the telephone receiver, why he had not refused. He did not want to go to “Marcia Canfield’s house. He was “ready to admit that he was a baby and an idiot, but he absolutely did not want to see Marcia in her own home, perhaps with the fiance of whom he had heard.
. ing the week, and on Saturday 4 t arrived at their home in a
“taxi, prepared to find Joan alone. le was surprised, therefore, to be itted by Mike, dressed not for nt departure on one of his uent evening assignments, but 3 all the glory of starched bosom nd dinner coat, surmounted by an ession which combined the finer isences of hatred, despair and anticial feeling. " “Are you going to the party “after all?” McDougall asked. © “After all is right,” said Mike with extreme feeling. “After all ‘could do! She gets me on a ttee for their crazy show, © makes me go to see the thing, id now she hauls me out on a that has no more excuse that the show's been given. ext thing I know shell have me y one of their plays, in tights, . bet you, and a plumed hat. e's my wife and I hate her. . . . h are you, you double-crosser? re’'s McDougall.” “Hi, Bruce,” said Joan, coming Wns with a clatter of heels. n't mind Groucho. He's feelnasty. Let's get started.” I thought he . . . you said
.chance on the Brodway stage. She |
did not want the Bradfords to feel responsible for him in Bobbs Neck.
ARCIA was waiting for them when they came downstairs— Marcia and Helen Waddell, her cohostess. Marcia and Helen, and a man. “How nice to see you again,” said Joan, in her best party manner, as he came forward. “This is a surprise. Did you come all the way from Chicago just for the party?” “No—on business, but I was lucky enough to arrive in time for this, too;” he said. It was Marcia who ‘introduced John Waddell and McDougall. The artist heard the name, but did not comprehend. No one, in the midst of all the, talk, thought to mention
“—the man from Chicago! The man ‘whom Marcia flew out to sée, when. there was trouble .of some sort. Well, he. doesn’t look troubled, particularly. Looks very fit and confident, and, doggone it, like a very agreeable and thoroughly decent chap, , Well, now I've seen him, met him. What did I expect him to be? Something to. frighten little children?” * "* " "°° He recalled the bit of gossip..he
that the visitor was Helen’s cousin. “Of course,” ‘thought McDougall |
had overheard as he watched a rehearsal. “How silly of Marcia,” Dorothy Osborn had said, “to ‘fly after him.” And the other woman had replied, “A woman ‘does some funny things when she’s in love with a man.” Dorothy, “I think I. could give him up, under the circumstances.” And from the other woman, “Marcia’s different, I suppose.” ; a ““For heaven’s ‘sake, McDougall,” the artist commanded himself, “snap out of it; wake up and live, brvoting is getting to be a neurotic
and McDougall, separated from the Bradfords, had been edged. back toward the “door ‘to a -still-deserted room, Philip Canfield’s billiard room. There John “Waddell: ‘approached “Do you play?” "the Chicagoan asked, ,nodding toward the lighted © : : McDougall brightened; the game was his favorite, for: many weeks neglected. .. oe : “Yes. Do: you?” i “My pal!” said John.. “Let's leave the silliment - and - énjoy- the true gentlemen's pastime.” . fy Together: they: entered the room.
(To Be Continued).
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By Willioms |
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“ ELL, Robert,” Prof. Lambert said, preparing: to tackle his dessert, “I read your latest book last night.” Robert Conway, writer of detective - stories, glanced inquiringly across the dinner table. “How did you like it?” . Prof. Lambert frowned. “To be perfectly frank with you, I didn’t care for it.” Conway grinned. asked amiably. Prof. Lambert leaned back in his chair. “Why is it,” he asked testily, gesturing with his spoon, “that you always make the hero a mental giant while the minor characters are morons?” “Oh, I wouldn’t put it quite that strongly.” “But it is true,” asserted the professor. “Take that part of your story where the thief hides the jewel box in his hotel room. Four people search the room and, although they are positive the box is there, they fail to find it. it without-any difficulty.” “The hero,” young Conway pointed out, “was. a trained detective, skilled in the art of deduction and cbservation.” “Granted. But if the others had used only a little common sense, they too could have found the box.”
” 2 2 SPECULATIVE gleam came suddenly into Robert Conway’s
“Why not?” he
eyes. “Suppose I gave you a Similar problem,” he said. “Would you be willing to wager that you could solve it?” Prof, Lambert frowned. “Certainly I would,” he said irritably. “I am not a puppet in one of your books. I have ordinary powers of
the average, in fact.” “Very well, then,” Conway said blandly. “What shall the wager be?” . “That is entirely up to you,” the professor replied. “I warn you, however, that I am certain to succeed.” Conway smiled. “All right,” he said. “You've objected to Joan's marrying me because you think a writer of trashy detective stories wouldn't make a suitable husband for your daughter. She. being an accomplished chemist, you want her to marry a scientist—some one whose interests are the ‘same as hers. Suppose we make this arrangement. If you solve- my problem, I'll agree to let the wedding be postpoged for a year—to give Joan plenty of time in which to change her mind about me. If you fail, then you raise no more objections, and we'll be married at once.” Prof. Lambert stared at him. “Are you serious?” “Absolutely!” * “Then it’s a bargain!” cried the professor, ” » # = car came to a halt before a ramshackle mountain lodge. Robert Conway, Prof. Lambert, and his daughter, Joan, climbed out and entered the lodge. “This deserted old shack of mine will be an ideal spot for our experiment,” said Conway, gesturing around the interior, which, save for a rickety table, was devoid of furnishings. “So it seems,” said the professor. From his coat pocket, Conway drew a small box. It was black in
"THE HIDDEN BOX Sr etn
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cheered. “This old shack is about to fall down anyway, so go as far as you like.” ' Prof. Lambert took him at. his word. He swung the hammer until his arms were weary. He tore up the place. The floor was smashed and the fireplace was an unrecognizable ruin.’ ‘But he could not find that box! : Conway and Joan witnessed the destruction in - solemn silence, Finally, Conway pulled out his watch. “Well, Professor, the time’s up.”
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ROF. LAMBERT threw down the hammer. : “Where is 'it?” he cried hoarsely. “What in blazes did you do with it?” Robert Conway grinned at him. “Your powers of ‘observation and deduction didn’t work so well, eh, Professor?” he chided. Prof. Lambert glared at him. “Where is the box?” he growled. “Right here.” Robert Conway patted his mid-section. “I ate it!” “You—you what?” “Ate it,” the young man repeated. “You see, Professor, you made two bad mistakes. First, you failed to examine the box. It was nothing more than pastry shell coated over with several layers of black vegetable coloring . matter. Secondly, you overlooked the fact that I had the assistance of a scientific accomplice.” . Prof. Lambert stared at him. “It was Joan, the chemist, who made the box!” said Conway, smil-
ing happily. THE END
©1936, United Syndicate, Inc.)
(Copyright, Feature
.The characters in this story are fictitious. observation and deduction—above | _—
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Q—What is the best time of year to gather pine needles for pillows? A—While they are called pine pillows, the filling is generally balsam fir, or red, white or black. spruce. These can be gathered any time of year, as the trees are evergreen. Q—At the rate of 100 miles an
from the earth to the sun, and to the: moon? i : A—The mean distance between the earth and the sun is 92,900,000 miles, and at 100 miles an hour, it would take 929,000 hours, or 38,708 days, or more than 106 years. The mean distance between the earth and the moon is 238,840 miles. It would take 2388.4 hours, or 99 and a fraction days. Q—What is the largest living animal? :
mens of which. are more than 100 feet long. 3 Q—What is the largest flying bird? ; A—The California condor has a wingspread of eight and one-half to nine and one-half feet, and weighs from 50 to 60 pounds. The ostrich is the ' largest living non-flying bi
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feet and weigh 300 pounds. Q—Can lime deposit in a teakettle be removed? aif ay A~~Use a solution of 30 grams of borax in 1 quart of water and a few drops of aqua ammonia.
Q—Which is correct,
Welsh rare- - A—Welsh rabbit,
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A—Yes.
hour, how long would it take to go|-
. A—The blue whale, some speci-
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