Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 15 May 1937 — Page 14

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. AFRAID &

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

TELL HIM THAT'N' ABOUT TH' INDIAN AN' TH' RUBBER OUCK , HERB.

> fh _ SATURDAY, MAY 15, 1937 By Williams PPER FANNY By Sylvia YOU NOTICE THAT TH) 7 a S TEETH L205 00 aS

AND THEY'RE | WORLD BEIN' MADE 2 274 =

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CAST OF CHARACTERS

" reappear again upstairs.

'a coward all

“footstep of a neighbor.

JOAN BARRETT, heroine, secretary to John Hendry. JOHN HENDRY, head. BOB ANDREWS, Hendry’s junior partner and Joan’s fiance. SYBIL HENDRY, socialite, John Hendry’s niece and Joan's rival in love. PHILIP HENDRY, Sybil’s brother. DOROTHY STARKE, Joan's girlhood friend. CHARLES NORTON, California mining promoter,

mining investment

Yesterday: Dorothy restrains Joan from a second attempt to flee New York and Joan decides to lay her full story before Mr. Hendry that night.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

S Joan sped the four short blocks to Mr. Hendry’s white cottage, the stars gleamed brightly in a cloudless sky, lighting the path before her. There was a glad song in her heart, and for the first time in 10 years, a bright hope for the future. If Mr. Hendry would believe her! Somehow she felt that he would. She would stand up before him,

{honest and unafraid, and tell him

everything. - She would make him believe in her father as she believed in him. What was it Dorothy had said to her? “If you believe in someone so truly—so- positively—you must be able to impress your certainty upon others.” > : > Dorothy was right. She had been these years. She should have made people believe! From now on, she would. She would make the whole world believe her father was innocent. It might be difficult, at times. But it was such a little chance to take, to gain so much, ... ” ” ” O more would she cringe in

terror every time she passed a face on the street that bore a familiar resemblance. No longer would she tremble when the name of her native state was mentioned. No further need she deny and protest and evade. She was free! . She breathed a silent prayer for havehg found a friend like Dorothy . Dorothy, who was so strong, and sure, and loyal . . Dorothy, who had first’ believed in her and then taught her that others might believe . . . Dorothy, who opened the gateway to a future of hapiness. Ahead of her, the little white

»Xhouse stood out brightly in the

moonlight. She saw a light in the front windows—in the living room, that would be. Mr. Hendry was still up, therefore, reading, or smoking one last cigar before retiring. He would be astonished to see her burst in upon him at this hour, bu he would not say so. : 7 ” = ” T the Inn, the steeple clock began to strike the midnight hour, and she hastened her steps. Av any moment now, that light in the living - room might be dimmed, to In that

event, she would hive to postpone

_ her mission until the morning,

She dreaded that. There was still the chance that Sybil might tell the story first, That would paint quite a different picture. Joan would be on the defensive then, admitting, apologizing, justifying. Mr. Hendry’s eyes would be stern with disappointment because she had been a coward. In her mind, she framed the words that she must speak. “Mr. Hendry, I must tell you something about my past ...” No, that was too melodramatic. “Mr. Hendry, for 10 years I have been living under a cloud., I don’t

- want to be married with tifat cloud

hanging over me. May I tell you about it and ask your advice?” Suppose his advice would be the same as her first inclination—to disappear out of Bob’s life? That would be the worst he could do to her, yet hadn’t she faced that .already? Even the worst would be better than this continual uncertainty and dread. : But he wouldn't advise that. He would believe her. He must!

2 8 2

T last she was at the house, running -up the steps of the porch. Her heart pounded with thunderous, quickened beats, and she stood still a moment to catch one long, strengthening breath. She assured herself that there was n need for fear now. . But she was afraid. For no reason at all, she suddenly felt herself caught in a-swift panic of dread, and she stood there, trembling from head to féot;a#d her knees threatened no longer to hold her weight. Why was she so horribly afraid

now, when it had seemed so simple |.

a few moments before? She leaned against the pillar of the porch, steadying herseli, Cold chills possessed her, and her throat was dry. To save her very life, she could have uttered no word at the moment. In an instant, the world had gone completely still, and the only sound was the mad pumping of her own heart. But that was no sound, that was a feeling; and she wondered if she had lost her hearing. 5 #§ a = : PON the streets, there was no steady hum of automobile motors, no brief note of a horn, no It was as if a warning finger had quickly been raised, silencing all outdoors. From within the house, there came no comforting cough of an old man smoking his cigar, no relaxing rustle of an evening newspaper, no creaking of furniture as a body adjusted itself. Within the house was only stillness, the enveloping, over-

~ whelming stillness of the tomb.

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Wed

“5

Only a second Joan stood there,

“ yet it seemed a vague eternity, a

second suddenly suspended indefinitely with the infinite. ; She struggled to pull her senses together, to throw off this unreasonable, overwhelming dread. She torced her thoughts into commonplace channels, reminding herself of her mission, and the hope it held. But her thoughts would not be adjusted. Terror held them in its unearthly grip, and all the horrors of darkness enfolded her. High above, the stars still gleamed cloudless sky, but now their

« prilfiance was harsh and glaring,

he lifted her eyes, her ion painted a weird picture. w an old woman, stupid and bedraggled, bending over four cards on a table. And in her ears a harsh, cackling voice resounded: “A. tall, dark man. And death!” Then once more, the trembling -geized her, and she knew: that she

was caught in a power stronger than life. | : kn =» HY long she stood there, she did not know. Perhaps but a second, perhaps—. But of was no time|at all. The clock in the steeple had not chimed the quarter Rous; i was still but a few moments after midnight. | Gradually, as she thought of this, she composed her senses, and the terror subsided. | It was nerves, she told | herself. Nothing but a case of nerves. For so long had she trembled and quailed, that now this sudden hope had overcome her. It was as if her heart, lightened of its load, had sought to burst its bonds. She coughed lightly, taking new assurance from the simple sound. She squared her shoulders and walked across the porch, enjoying the noise her steps made. How foolish to have felt so fearful! She pressed the bell quickly and listened as it echoed and re-echoed through the silent house. There was no answering note. Perhaps Mr. Hendry had dozed for the moment. Abraham, she recalled, went out on Thursday evenings. She rang the bell again, longer this time. Still within the house silence reigned. She listened intently. Surely the sound must have awakened Mr. Hendry; his hearing was exceptionally keen. For the third time, she rang the bell, holding her finger on the button. Soon the sound would awaken the entire neighborhood, she thought. Mr. Hendry must certainly have heard it, if he were inside.

8 ” 2

HE started: Perhaps he was not home yet; perhaps he was still down at the Inn, sipping another brandy and soda in solitude! Why hadn’t she thought to phone there first and learn if he had left? It was not too late, then. She might still catch him at the Inn. Or she could wait. She could sit right here on the doorstep and wait for him. She wasn't cold any longer. The light in the living room disturbed her, however. If Mr. Hendry had not come home, why should it be 1it? She walked over to the large window and tried to peer through the shade. It was unusual to see the shades drawn in Mr. Hendry's house. One could always look into it, to see him sitting by the fireside. He liked the shades up, he said. So the light in the window could shine out. But perhaps tonight— Joan caught her breath, remem-

ourse it |

bering that tonight there was a reason for drawing the shades. Tonight Mr. Hendry carried $40,000 in his pocket! o ” ” ” : HE felt a quick new fear. Suppose something had happened— She knelt down on the floor of the porch, trying to see into the room through the half-inch ‘space

below the shade. She peered intently, trying to accustom her eyes to the shadows along the floor. Slowly things took form—she saw the carpet, the legs of the secretary, an easy chair—yes, there were two large, black-shod feet. Mr. Hendry was at home then! She stood up quickly. Perhaps he had taken sick, all alone in the house. Perhaps he had had one brandy too much. She went back and tried the door. It was unlatched. Without hesitating, she went inside, shutting it behind her. She walked across the hall and into the living room. “Mr. Hendry!” she called softly. She saw him, sitting at his desk, staring dully at her. His head rested on the back of his chair, as if he were too tired to hold it erect. Someining in his attitude frightened er. “Mr. Hendry!” she called again.

Still he did not move.

2 » 2

E is intoxicated, she thought, and wondered what to do about it. There would be no point in talking to him tonight. She felt vaguely disappointed. She had never thought of ‘him—Ilike this. She was sorry to have intruded. Perhaps Mr. Hendry had his secrets, too. But why did he sit there so stonily, staring at her in that vacant, frightening way? : . Was he ill? A sudden stroke . . . a shock. She rushed over to his side, felt his hand quickly. And then, in a flash, she knew the reason for the wild fear that had engulfed her a few moments before. She caught her breath violently, choked the cry that sweiled up in her throat and would have strangled her. His hand was cold and clammy, and the fingers were ‘almost stiffened. “Mr. Hendry!” she cried in a hoarse, rasping whisper. “Mr, Hendry! Answer me, for God's sake!” She shook his shoulders roughly, trying to bring back some semblance of life. And as she did..so, she glanced behind him. The hilt of a knife protruded from between his shoulders; the back of the chair was stained a dull; deep red.

(To Be Continued)

Daily Short Story

PERFECT UNDERSTANDING —By W. De Lisle

HEY understood each other so

perfectly, he and she. ... Standing idly at the office window, she wondered how it could be possible that they had remained only friends up to this very day. They were so attuned in mind, sympathies and tastes—and they both knew it—yet, not a word of love had ever passed between them in all the four years she had been his secretary. Sometimes, in the many discussions they had had together, here in this cffice of his, they had strayed near that line that divides friendship from love, but they had never crossed it. And then, at the end of each day, he had gone home to his wife, and she had gone home to the placid, pleasant man who was her husband. She wondered vaguely why she had now decided to quit her work as his secretary. But, of course, it was to please Henry—and she really was devoted to Henry, even though their minds and interests were so far apart. But, with a sudden sense of desolation, she realized that she was losing the part of her life that mattered to her more than anything else in the world. She was cltting herself off from the one man with whom she held perfect communion of mind. The man she loved—for his brain and his understanding. She loved him desperately and, trembling, she wondered if, today, before she left, that barrier of impersonality between them would at last be broken down... . What would Henry do in that case —her easy-going Henry, with his sleepy blue eyes, and his superb tolerance of all life's worries and irritations? And: what would his plump, placid wife do? s ”n ”

F E had come into the room behind her. “I've just actually realized,” he said, “that you're going.” She turned. “I've just realized it, too,” she told him, smiling a little. “I shall miss yocu—terribly.” He spoke casually, but she noticed suddenly that his hand, holding a sheet of paper, was trembling. “Do you mean to say, Mrs. Elder,” he went on, searching furiously among nis papers for nothing in particular, “that after § o'clock, I'll never see you again?” “On, don’t make it as final as that!” she laughed, steadying her self. “When Henry and I come back from Washington, I'll be in town almost every day.: Surely, you and I can have a friendly chat now and then.” “You're trying to be dense,” he said. “What's a friendly chat? TI'll want to talk to you for hours about the books we don't like, and the plays we do—and all the other things there are to be criticized. But you'll be sunk in domesticity, and I won't be able to.” He meant, “I'll want to talk to you about love, and ourselves, after having wasted four years.” “My wife and I will be passing through Washington next week, on our way to Florida,” he went on. “We'll put up overnight at the Rex. Where will you be staying?” “At the Rex,” she told him—and suddenly the tension was gone. ” " ” S they switched to a half-jok-ing, half-serious discussion of who was to take her place and how he would manage to refrain from ‘discussing life and philosophy with this unknown successor, she put on her hat. “As long as she doesn’t expect me to make love to her, it will be all right,” he laughed. “You never gave me any training in that, Mrs. Elder!”

She hoped wildly, for a moment,

that he would swing her about and sweep her into his ‘arms—hoped, and then thought again of Washington. ! She turned and saw that he, too, had remembered Washington. “Till next week at the Rex,” he said, and shook hands with her. Next week , , . and after next week—what? : ” ” ” HE and Henry had been at the . Rex Hotel for three days. On the evening of the third day, she was sitting on the bed in their room, playing somewhat listlessly with Sandy, her white Scotty, when Henry, coming upstairs to bed, told her

that he and his wife had just ar-{

rived. “Nice fellow,” Henry cbserved. The next morning, at 8 o'clock, she went to the door for the morning paper and, as she stooped to pick it up, Sandy slipped out: into the corridor. She called to him to gome back, but he paid no heed to er. ; Finally, with her dressing gown wrapped about her, she was forced to go after him. She had almost caught up with him when he paused beside a bellboy who was waiting outside a closed door with a message in his hand. The door opened suddenly, and a man appeared, reaching for the message. She stared at him—and he at her. He muttered, “Good morning,” in a deep growl of embarrassment, his eyes fixed upon her with. a strange look—a look of surprise and —Vyes, distaste. When she returned to her room, she stared at herself in the mirror. She did look a fright—but no more of a fright than she looked every morning at this time. And Henry didn’t mind! Impulsively, she walked over and kissed him—to his utter astonishment. : 8 ww 9

HE and Henry met him and his wife in the lobby after breakfast. She looked deep into his eyes —and smiled, amusedly. H> looked deep into her eyes—and smiled back, amusedly. “We are just leaving,” he said. He held her hand for a moment. “Good-

Smiling still, they parted. They did not look back. They understood each other so perfectly, he and she.

THE END

The characters in this story are fictitious.

(Copyright, 1937. United Syndicate, Inc.)

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Feature

Q—How can I restore the color to faded deer antlers? A—Immerse them in an aqueous solution of potassium ferrocyanide, dry, and treat them with a hot dilute solution of copper sulphate.

Q—What type of rifle was standard in the U. S. Army from 1892 to 1898? A—Krag-Jorgensen,

Q—What is the home address of Noel Coward? A—17 Gerald Road, London, S. W. 1, England.

Q—Name the U. S. Senators from North Carolina. » A—Josiah Bailey of Raleigh and Robert R. Reynolds of Asheville,

a ——— EE cm———————— z — COPR. 1937 BY NEA SERVICE. INC. -——_ .T.M. REC. U. S. PAT. OFF.

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~ —By Al Capp’

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THEY'RE WAITING FOR YOU k} OUT THERE. THAT'S in YOUR CUE!

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| #1937 by United Feature Syndicate, Inc.

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IF ANYTHING, HE DARED HIM! _——

HE MUST BE ALL RIGHT- 7% 1 AINT HEARD NO ~ 2 WAS GOIN, IF HE WA GONNA FALL,

“How many directions do you get to the gallon?”

HIS BIG DINOSAUR

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30 Cuckoo.

37 Cavity. 39 Writing fluid. 53 Forearm bone. 9 South 99 Lubricated. 61 To instigate. 62 It is a — animal.

10 Perched. 41 Exclamation. 43 Solemnly. 46 Musical note.

VEH, BUTI BETCHA \|

IS SPLATTERED

ATTA BOY, DINNY! THASSA GOOD ONE ! DANGED IF YOU AINT TH’ FISH -KETCHINEST | CRITTER | EVER SAW!

CROSSWORD PUZZLE

HORIZONTAL

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