Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 12 December 1936 — Page 14

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BY ROBERT DICKSON 5 (Copyrignt, 1936, NEA Service, Inc.) ich BEGIN HERE TODAY } Canfield, daughter of wealthy Canfield, meets Bruce McDougall, shortly after the mysterious disnee of Frank Kendrick, to whom had been engaged. When shortare found in Kendrick’s business ts, Marcia is more shocked than ) en. She realizes she was never in love with him. ¥ Il is attentive until Dorothy

who dislikes Marcia, leads him 50 believe Marcia is engaged to another

There is a bank holdup and police ndeer the Canfield car to follow ndits, The car is wrecked and cia and her father are injufed. gall, driving with Dorothy, arrives B the scene and takes Marcia and her “father to the hospital, ~ Their injuries are slight. Although 's arm is in a sling, she takes 8 short time afterward, in an ; ur play. A New York producer at“Sends the performance and offers Doro"Shy a part in his next production. © Marcia gives a party for Dorothy. Br goes, but the misunderstandings een him and Marcia are increased d of lessened. ~ Bruce and Mike Bradford, newspaper man, decide to bry the local newspaper. © NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT OAN BRADFORD rather wanted ' to pick a fight with the butcher : cut he had shown her and aced on the scales was far from hat she had just described in deut she reflected that Mike “soon be soliciting advertising om him as well as all the other lerchants in town, and a friend Ould be - better than an enemy such circumstances. ‘With a sweet smile, the full purprt - of which the butcher could tL. appreciate, she accepted the t, paid for it, and walked out of shop, her smile melting in‘stantaneously in direct defiance of the temperature. “The Bobbs Neck Gazette may ‘be Mike's future,” she lamented : i this “but it will be my finish 8 keeps up. How can the wife the editor be a conscientious ‘ee lance?” : Dorothy Osborn was coming out the bakery next door. “Come into the drug store for a fia,” invited Joan. “I need reIre ent and-a sympathetic ear. Have you heard about the Brad-{ford-McDougall enterprise?” "= Dorothy had not hedrd, and Joan ‘explained it. The paper would not be taken over for several weeks, she said, during which many details needed attention, and Mike, while keeping his job in the city, was Staying up half the night over enthusaistic plans. : 2 =

p— WANTED a home of my

own ‘A and I got a weekly newspaper,” said Joan. “They ganged up on me =Mike and Bruce McDougall.” ~ “I think it’s grand,” Dorothy disagreed, “I've lived here all my life ind I remember when the Gazette was a prosperous and much better paper, I know you can make it

~ “Well, T hope so,” said Joan, more optimistic than she would admit. “If just our own investment were at stake it wouldn’t be so bad, I'd hate to see Bruce lose; too, then he’d never have been inlyed in such a thing without us.” “He’s a nice person,” said Dor-

put true to life. . . .I like him a lot, but he’s odd, in a way, isn’t he? I wonder if he likes it here?” = “You'd never get him to tell you,” Joan replied. “He gets some of the darndest attacks of shyness I ever witnessed. A man @§ke him—attractive, earning a good living— i would make ‘a good husband for some deserving girl, but, as far as I've been able to pierce his shell, ‘he’s not interested. Reserve—boy, he's got it!” »

TT E was an old habit of gos- . sip in Dorothy's makeup. Dur{ng many years she had had an acid tongue, a bitter viewpoint. But the eircumstances which had prompted ‘her had been so miraculously supplanted with the prospect of a cayeer on the stage that, in her ‘thankfulness, the bitterest had been flooded away. Yet the old habit of gossip re‘mained. Kindlier gossip, now. 4 “7 could tell a great deal about * him,” she said. “You and Mike are “the oldest friends he has here, aren't 4 ? Then it's no harm to tell you

The night of the bank robbery a the pursuit of the bandits. The Ny of Marcia Canfield’s car, and Osborns, with McDougall, comIng upon it. © McDougall with Marcia in his , on te way to the hospital; ugall's face in the rear-view

Ir, : McDougall forgetting everything S5¢ while he watched the doctors id nurses take Marcia away.' ay heaven help me!” said Joan len Dorothy had finished. “And at guy, to my certain knowledge, IS never even asked her for a date. as de you do with a man like { They parted in front of the drug tore. In another day or two Dor-

Ang

fly was to start rehearsing in the Ww Lloyd Burtis play. Joan drove

did not intend to give up his job in the city until the te had been actually tured ler to him, and that could not . accomplished for several weeks.

in the ip. He realized vestment to the Bradford's made the purchase possible, but he knew, too, that only Mike's fraining could make a success of the paper. His own training had been as an artist and, until he had come East on his present job, it had left little time for him to absorb anything else. s = N a morning a few days after his and Mike’s great decision he remembered, as he shaved, how he had so recently entertained, before this same mirror, the notion that he was a bit lonely in Bobbs Neck. Only a few weeks had passed, and he had not only forgotten the very feeling of loneliness but was busier than he had ever been. It wouldn't take much more to fill all 24 hours of the day! Beside his plate, at the breakfast which the Sellers maid brought up from downstairs, was the morning's mail. Word of his new position in the community had spread quickly and his patronage was solicited by almost every one who had goods or service to sell. There were circulars

that only the addition of his in-| had | the

ture comforts were arranged for the tenant of the second floor of th? Sellers home. = The church, Staghcraft Guild and yacht ‘club initations he left in a pile on the table for later action, but the building and loan letter was tossed neatly into the wastebasket across the room. _ “I'm not in the market for real estate,” McDougall reiterated cheerfully. He lingered only long enough over breakfast to enjoy a second cup of coffee and a cigaret, and then got up briskly. No more loafing, no more useless hours of wishing for things that couldn’t be had. No more mdods or complaining.

There was work to be done in the

world!

(To Be Continued)

SALES

By C. R.

A SP

yd ; = THE GE

EN SMITH, the grouchiest retail groceryman. in the state, was loafing in the hotel lobby when Tim Jones, the jolliest drummer in that territory, breezed in, dropped his case with a bang, thumped his fist down on the desk and, thumping the clerk with his other hand, exclaimed: “Oh, boy) Am I a winner! Two thousand—dollars worth of business today! Does it pay to be a jolly guy? Tll say! Ya know, I've never made a blunder in all my selling career. I jolly ’em and sell em!” From his easy chair 10 feet away, Ben Smith gave a disgusted snort. Smith was expert at emitting snorts.. Ask his’ clerk, ask his cook, ask any one who had dealings with him. “Sure,” they'd say, “the old fellow’s been snorting all his life. You can’t please him. No wonder he’s a single man.. No wonder his clerk, Miss Coombs, looks the picture of gloom. She’s caught it from him.” . But the old codger got a goodly share of business in spite of his acrid disposition. Yes, lots of people patronized his small store. He did no smirking, put on no “what-will-it-be-today” geniality, but he gave good values, and told the exact truth about his wares. Most of his steady customers said, “You've got to get to know Ben Smith.”

» ” » IS sneer, however, now got under Jones’ skin. The sales-

man looked over his way. “What's the matter, Dad—think I'm wrong?” The heavy-jowled merchant rolled an ill-natured eye toward Jones. “Think it? I know it! I've been dealing with traveling salesmen for years, and I've never known one yet that didn’t make an occasional blunder in his selling approach or in his social contact with his prospective customers. I'll bet that goes for you, too, only you're too all-fired conceited to see it.” Jones winked slyly at the desk clerk. “What's your business, Dad?” “My name's Smith!” aecidly. “I'm in the grocery business.” “Swell!” said Jones. “Right down my alley. I sell Urbin-Hill Coffee. Where can I find you, Mr. Smith—to get that order tomorrow?” why “At Sixth and Hulitt. To get an order is another matter.” “Oh, I'll get an order all right— at least, eventually; so why not now?” : Smith studied the cocky salesman. “I'll tell you what, young man—if youll call on me for one year without making a serious salesmanship blunder or a distinctly tactless remark in general, I'll agree to buy your line regularly. But until the year’s up, I'll not

Jones laughed heartily. “It's a go, Da—er Smith. Tl be seein’ you each’ month—regular! ss = =

Daily Short Story

TACT

Gaylord

v i

In his enthusiasm, he almost—but not quite!—sat down on Smith’s gouty foot.

Smith followed the salesman cut into the store, where .Jones gave Miss Coombs careful instructions as te the brewing of Urbin-Hill’s. best blend. Smith's eyes twinkled as he set his trap. “Say, young man, what do you think about this idea that pretty girls make the best store clerks-— bring in more business?” Jones was ready with a smile. He knew the austere Miss Coombs was well past her thirty-fifth birthday. “I think it’s true—as proven right here in this store!” Smith was relentless. “Humph! How old do you think Miss Coombs is?” : Jones bowed gallantly. “Not a day over twenty-five!” Smith turned around . and retreated to his office, laughing raucously. Miss Coombs went a deep scarlet, but she gave Jones her sweetest smile as he picked up his case and departed. ” » ” HE months passed. Smith laid a new snare each time the salesman called, but always Jones escaped — sometimes by a hairs breath. : The eleventh call was very’ nearly a Waterloo for Jones. Smith was suffering from a spell of gout and had his bandaged foot resting on a chair before him. ‘The dapper salesman became so enthused about a new-style coffee container that he forgot what he was doing and almost— but not quite!<sat down on Smith's gouty foot. , He caught himself just in time. 3 Whew! He nearly cooked’ his goosé that time! He breathed a sigh of relief as he left the store. “Good-by!” he called back from the front door. “See you next month!”

Miss Coombs smiled amiably, but

Smith emitted only a grunt by way |.

of reply. : * Only one ' more call, thought Jones. Then, if all went well, victory would be his. He had worked hard for it. ” 2 » MONTH later, he stopped ‘his roadster in front of the store, grabbed his order book, and entered in his usual breezy style The proprietor was behind the counter, alone. “Hello, Mr. Smith. How are ya?” ' “Pirst-rate.” : “Great weather.” “Uh-huh.” J “Working alone today?’ “Yup!” : “Well, well—what's become of Miss Coombs?” “Oh, she up and got married— finally »

“Married! Oh, boy! Who on earth married that homely old girl?” “I DID!” : THE END (Copyright, Ln posted Feature

The characters in this story are fictitious. |

he Times | |

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= FOR THE BOSS TO LEAVE JOSTHAVING A \ || | < FER A MINUTE SO HE TOUGH TIME TRYNA 3 ro COULD LOAF ON THE [| LOOK AS TIRED AS HE = JOB; THAT HE CAN'T || THOUGHT HE WAS WHEN ] ENJOY (T, NOW THAT |{ THE BOSIWAS WATCHIN’ ; E BOSS HAS LEFT. / ML . : = ’ : po ; , 3 - rd Ti PN [11] Viel 0 1 : { i hj ) | { | - A - SR PL © © 1 | : is h to o @ i ; \ A Z I 1% Sat : p < 0 WN - A Y- ’ i wh . a z ! = 0 J oa \ \ © \ ' 0 7, = 7 INA 3 ( . A — = \ f rd x I A ————- =~ v § Es pet Ee oN wr “Ne i / - Tr Se” o)/ l= sls \ : NN 7 == “Why should I have fo go calling with you, Fanny?” De -— - “Because Christmas is a good time to itivets cordial relations== : = Is especially if they're rich aunts.” ——— — : . : JT RWiLLiAMe, ? “3-2 Fr PAT. OFF EMPTY SUCCESS ® 1938 By NEA SERVICE. INC.) 132 —By Al Capp |

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