Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 19 May 1937 — Page 22

PAGE? _

b AFRAID

by MARION WHITE

CAST OF CHARACTERS JOAN BARRETT, heroine. secretary to John Hendry. JOHN HENDRY, head. v BOB ANDREWS, Hendry's jinior 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. i : CHARLES NORTON, California mining promoter.

mining investment

Yesterday—Sybil visited her uncle's home, found he had been murdered. Horror-stricken she backs toward the door, trips, and picked up Joan Barrett's glove. :

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE ACK at | the Downs’ house, Dorothy paced the floor with . ever increasing anxiety... What was keeping Joan? Surely it had not taken her more than two hours to tell her story to Mr. Hendry. A strange [foreboding possessed her that Mr. Hendry may have been

intolerantly |harsh. and Joan, frightened at| this turn of events,

had carried out her first impulse

and run away. She blamed herself for not considering that eventuality before this: She might have offered to accompany Joan, or at least to have waited for her somewhere. It was a mistake letting the poor girl go off alone; she was so morbidly upset by the continual persecution that |she could no longer think straight. But she could not have run away. Over and over Dorothy persuaded herself of this. Where would she have gone at 1 o'clock in the morning. without any clothes. without any money? Dorothy knew that Joan had only a small sum of money in her bag. zn un n «y’LL wait another 10 minutes,” she decided. “I'll wait until 2:30, and then I'll phone and see if she’s still there.” She continued to pace up and down the room, stopping every once in a while to peer out into the street for some sign of Joan's return. At 2:30. she went to the phone in her aunt's room and.called

the Hendry house. She waited, listening to the steady ring at the other end. There was no answer. She called the operator again, to make sure that she was ringing the right number. She listened again to the buzzing call signal. Even if Mr. Hendry were asleep, he'd have: heard the telephone by this time. And if he were asleep, where was Joan? Five minutes after she left him. she would have been home. Dorothy was trembling with a new

fear as she finally replaced the tele-

phone on its hook. Something had happened. In frantic haste, she changed her pajamas for a dress, slipped on shoes and stockings and a heavy coat, and ran from the house. She, too, sped in the direction of Mr. Hendry’s little white cottage. At every bend in the road, she stared ahead for some sign of Joan, but she saw none. Green Hills still slept in quiet contentment. Then, in the next instant, the air was suddenly split with the shrill ory of police sirens, and as Dorothy turned into Mr. Hendry's street, a car sped by her, then another, and from the ~opposite direction, two more appeared. . : She stopped in her tracks, and a terrible fear chilled her to the very marrow of her bones. For each one of the police cars was drawing up in front of the Hendry cottage, and from within there came the frantic, hysterical cries of a woman. She recognized the voice of Sybil Henary... .

2 zn 2

EVEN miles north. of Green Hills lies Sonne suburb— Burlington. A |sfmall mill town it is, lacking the charm and dignity of its neighboring community. No main highway connects it with Green Hills, but one who knows the community might find a narrow dirt road, lonely and deserted, heading due north out of Green Hills and crossing the interlying truck farms to the village of Bur- © lington. Farmers use the road, and domestic workers from Green Hills. And this night, in blind terror, Joan Barrett stumbled onto the Burlington road. Where it led to, she neither knew nor cared. She followed it—the full seven miles— half running, half walking, but * keeping everlastingly on. She huddled now, like a terrified lost Kitten, outside the dark railroad station in Burlington. Her hair flew around her face in wild disorder, for the wind had come up strong. In the light of the streét lamp, her dark eyes loomed large with fear, and her lips quivered. With one hand, she drew her coat tightly around her, and the other hand—the one for which she had lost the glove—she tucked inside, to keep|it warm.

” n ” H= black | slippers were scratched and soiled, and there was a long run in her left stocking. There were dirty marks upon her coat, too, for twice she had stumbled in the dark and fallen. Each time she had wondered vaguely what had made her get up. She was so tired, so tired that it was good to fall and lay for a moment on the cold ground. But a fierce, impelling force drove her on, and in her wild fancy she heard footsteps behind her; heavy relentless footsteps which would follow her to the ends of the earth... The fate of her father pursued her. She could never escape it, no matter what persuasion . Dorothy used. She was caught, as he had been, in the same inevitable net of circumstance. Mr. Hendry had been murdered, and they would say that she had done it.” For 40 thousand dollars. Yet in her purse was scarely more than $10. Not enough for another escape. Ten dollars, and when that was gone, the police would find her. . . .

” 2 s

T had been wrong to run away. She knew that. She was a coward. Every step of the seven miles she had traveled, the words rang In her ears: “You're a coward! You're afraid!” Yet she could not stop, for the fear drove her on. cn. Even now, she trembled more

ning. She must keep on, hurry.ing before the fate which pur- | sued her. But the road ahead lay along a main street. and she must compose herself. Policemen patrolled main streets, and one would think it peculiar to find a girl running along the streets at such an hour. And if he stopped her, he would guess what she was running from. , .. . She knew so well what that would mean. Months in a tiny cold cell, with bars to shut one in, and {never another breath of sunshine. |... A long trial: hours of sitting in | a crowded courtroom, surrounded ! by scornful eyes. seeking in vain for

Love

because she was no longer run-:

lone kindly face, one friend who | might believe. . . . And then the inevitable doom—a rope about one’s Fneck—or ‘here in New York, the ; electric chair. . .. | | Mr. Hendrv had been murdered. | It was impossible. it was inconceivable, but it had happened never- ! theless. A man can't put a knife into his own back. . | But who could have done: it? { Who could have hated a man so gentle, so trusting, so kindly. as to do a thing like that? i Someone who had wanted the money. There are men who would Kill another for 40 thousand dollars. But they are clever men. The police never find them. They would never know who killed Mr. Hendry. They would look for her, instead. She would see the headlines in the morning papers; she could hear a thousand tongues convicting her. “Her father was a murderer! It's in her blood, to kill!”

" u n

QTL would tell them, of course. Sybil would have no need to bargain with her now. | And Bob! He would be dragged | into the whole sordid affair, wheth- | er she wanted it or not. His picture would be in every paper; in, bold-face type they would refer to | him as “the Killer's fiance.”

| breathed a sigh of relief.

| wished her

passed in front of her. She looked after it, reading the sign, “Burling-ton-New York.” She had better go to New York, too. It would be easier to hide in the city than out here, running along lonely roads. Sooner or later, each lonely road led into a main street, and she would be conspicuous in a small suburban town. Above all, she must go to New York, to mingle in the crowds . . . She would wait for the next bus. She must be in New York before the early newspaper came cut. Mr. Hendry's death would be major news; he was one of the country’s leading citizens. The story would crowd everything off the front page. ' Perhaps they would not find him | until morning . . . then she would be safe until the evening . papers came out.

n 8 Ed HE had $10. That was enough. She would get a tiny room

somewhere, and lock the door. . ..

She waited more than an hour | for the next bus. Getting on, she It was! not. completely empty. There were | several couples—gay and silly and a little intoxicated—returning from a party. They scarcely noticed her. She found a seat and crouched | down into it, holding her coat coilar up. In back of her, eight young | voices harmonized the chorus of “A | Fine Romance,” and she remem | bered the Spring Frolic. i It was nearly 5 o’cleck when | she reached the city. In a lunch wagon near the bus terminal she] had coffee. Two cups. It stopped | the quivering inside of her. Then, | in the ladies’ room, she combed her | hair and brushed off her shoes and | coat. She must appear reasonably | presentable before she went to look | for a room. For the first time. she | hair were not so con- | spicuously blond. | She walked across town to the! Grand Central Station. If she lin- | gered in the bus terminal too long. she might attract attention. She bought a newspaper and turned immediately to the classified columns. One after one she read the advertisements of rooms to rent. She checked off only those which specifically quoted the price. At 10 o'clock, she visited the first one on her list. It was ir an untidy house on a poor side street, and it looked out over a ‘dreary vista of roof tops. Mrs. Griggs, the landlady, showed her the room. Here might be refuge. at least until she had thought this whole terrible thing through, and planned her next move. Without a moment's hesitation Joan handed Mrs. Griggs $6 for the first week's rent.

(To Be Continued)

Daily Short Story

SOLDIERS OF MISFORTUNE— By Agnes Louis Pratt

ITH a big paper bag in one hand he dug down in the trash barrel and brought up one worthless thing after another—a salt shaker, a corroded brass elbow, a rusty section of stovepipe. The junk man wouldn't give him much for such stuff! He stirred the contents of the barrel hungrily, casting furtive glances around him. This was new business for him. A fellow had told him, “Try the trash cans, Buddy. The junk man’ll give yer a little somethin’ for yer finds.” Sc he had tried, was still trying. A triangular piece of mirror came up next. It showed him a pinched, blue nose, a rough stubble of blackish beard, the upper edge of a dirty shirt collar. He thrust the mirror back in the can, and laughed hollowly. Another stir, and up came a gaudily decorated candy box. He lifted the cover—and gasped. n n n IS eyes jerked up to the big house whose trash barrel this was. y A mansion of stately proportions, with filmy lace at its windows. The abode of wealth. He gazed at the contents of the box dazedly—jewels! Crafty gleams were born in his eyes; sudden thumping set up in his heart. He stared at his find and gloated, while a freezing wind picked and tore at his lean sides and sent shivers racing to his flapping soles. His eyes caught glints from the shimmering tangle of jewelry. How had it got into the trash barrel? Through some mistake in the big house? One parcel instead of ‘another carelessly dumped here? For him to find! A necklace, a bracelet, a brooch, a ring. Gee! How much could he get for all this? : He replaced the cover of the candy box, shutting out the primary coelors that writhed from the glittering treasures. Again he looked up at the splendidly prosperous house. Then, suddenly, he reached a decision. 2 ” n

E packed the slender parcel

coat and held it against him. Gosh, he was cold! His stomach ached with emptiness; his heart thumped heavily against the box. He went up the wide granolithic walk, up the granite steps to the massive door of the house. They'd be glad to see him! A slow grin widened his blue lips. He reached for the big knocker and let it fall, once, twice, thrice, against its plate. He turned his back to the wicked wind that spat sleet in his face. He listened for steps inside. They came. } ; The door swung wide. A girl, young and pretty, stared at him. He thought he'd never seen such a pretty girl—he was glad he'd decided for the reward instead of the loot. It might have been hard for him to dipose of such trinkets. He looked into the girl's eyes. They were blue, and melting with pity. He uncovered the box and held it out. “Be these yours, ma'am?” he

underneath his thin,%.ragged |

HE looked at the jewels, with a startled expression in her eyes now. “Why—yes.” she said. She reached out her hand for the | box. | “Is—is there a reward?” he] quavered. A slow smile barely curled her lips. She looked him up and down before she answered. “Yes—of course,” she said. “Come ! in out of the cold and I'll get it for you.” She left him waiting in the spacious, luxurious hall, and ran lightly up the grand staircase. It wasn’t a minute before she was down again. She had a crumpled bill in’ her hand. : “Thank you so much. Here—”" she. gave him the bill. “Oh—that’s all right.” His voice was jerky. He had seen the figure in the corner of the bill. A fin! A rotten little five-dollar bill! For all that loot! He shuffled out, and” down the | granite steps. Without a backward look at her... . . "own HE pretty girl stood and stared | down at the glittering mess of jewelry in the candy box. ; “Gosh,” she said slowly, “I can’t shake the things! Can you beat it? ! The junk I've accumulated from the 5 and 10!” She looked around the luxurious hall with the same .haunted ex- | pression in her eyes that the trash- | barrel searcher had in his. Then, because there was no one around, ' she went on aloud with the monologue. “The poor simp thought I was a rich dame—and had lost my jewelry. When all I am is a maid and— fired! * With two fives to keep me till I get in somewhere else. Well, now he’s got one. But could I see him go out in the cold like he was, | and give him nothing?” She: laughed a little and, with the candy box in her hand, turned toward the grand staircase. “When I go tomorrow morning, I'll take these along—and toss them in the pond!”

THE END

(Copyright, 1937, United Feature Syndicate, Inc.)

The characters in this story are fictitious.

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Q—Children in motion pictures always appear to have full sets of teeth. How is that accomplished? A—As fast as their front baby teeth are lost, they are fitted with temporary false ones.

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A—Governor of Indiana, $8000;

asked, with a tremble in his voice. - /

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES OUT OUR WAY

By Williams

TATA

! <O OSOOSIN SEX

Li M. REG. U. S. PAT. CFF. COPR. 1937 BY NEA SERVICE, INC.

LI'L ABNER

FLAPPER FANNY

RN, Rai in

tnd a A a SN SR SEL

_ WEDNESDAY, MAY 19, 1937 By Sylvia

j = i SRO 1 [if

THEY TOLE ME J RECKON | YO WAS DAID,/ WHUT WE IS. OR

SO-AH WAS WILLIN® T'DIE -

0 HAIN'T -C:GLLP) -AH HAINT-

—

| "® 1927 bv United Feature Syndicate, Ine. Tm. Reg. U. &. Pat. Off —All rights reserves

DON'T You CARE, SoN | IT WAS YOUR FIRST ATTEMPT AT WRITING A PLAY, AND I DIDN'T THINK TWAS EVEN HALF BAD!

I'L ADMIT, I COULDN'T QUITE FIGURE WHAT

ALL RIGHT, NOW, YOU FELLASFOLLOW US SO'S YOU CAN START SKINNIN' THESE CRITTERS AS 11 SOON AS WE KNOCK

VEH, THA'S WHAT I'VE HEARD -AN' T ) THINK HIS PLAN SURE [SA BIRD! VOU'LL BAG SOME MAMMOTHS FOR THEIR HIDES, I'M TOLD, /] T'MAKE DINNY A COAT SO HE WON'T GET COLD- ,— I i il t

HAS FIXED IT UP 50's WE CAN STAY HERE FOR A WHILE

AEE Sag

GRIN AND BEAR IT

“No, sir! I won't go with you! If you wanted to play

lessons?”

hookey today, why didn’t you tell me before I got all my

—By Al Capp

TO CHEAT THE AUDIENCE OUT You GOT OF TWENTY /INON A CENTS! Pass!

T WAS A PLOT BETWEEN THE WHAT AUTHOR AND ARE YOU :

THE ACTORS | SQUAWKIN' ABOUT 2

{ \

SURE, AND THAT'S WHY I FELT I COULDN'T COMPLAIN ABOUT THE PLAY ! BUT THAT SECOND ACT GOT SO TERRIBLE, I WENT OUT

AND BOUGHT A TICKET, SOS I CouLD COME BACK IN AND

th 5 PAT OF

T M REG F COPR. 1937 BY NEA geavice ING,

~—By Hamlin

( so THE HUNTERS SET OUT IN SEARCH OF HAIRY MAMMOTHS -

By Lichty

C \

| HORIZONTAL {| 1,5 The boy monarch ot Egypt. 10 Simpleton. 12 By. 13 Fop. 14 Wine vessel. 15 Northeast. 16 Act of reading. : 19 Right. 20 Tennis fence. 21 Myself." 22 To rove idly. 23 Meadow. 25 Tatter. 29 To seize. 31 Jolly. 33 Valiant man. 35 Aurora. 36 Ocean vessel 38 Pasteboard border on 2a photo. 39 Northwest. 40 Italian river 41 Eye tumor. 42 Half an em

HI HO, CHIEF - LOOK!

HOYKAWOW! THEY RE “3 BIGGERN LOTSA \) DINOSAURS I'VE (. SEEN-

A AN Nir Ng a Nh /

J \A aris ’ A \ YT Rarusiia, COPR. 1937 BY NEA SERVICE. INC. T. M. REG. U.S. PAT. OFF.

CROSSWORD PUZZLE

Answer to Previous Puzzle

GOLF

44 Point. 45 Hastens. ‘47 To bleat. 49 Longed. 52 To redecorate. .54 Leg joint 55 God of war. 57 Rubber wheel pad. 9 Murderer. 58 His father 11 Typewritten. died of a = 17 And. ailment. i. 18 Form of *be.” 59 Wooden pin. 19 His country is 60 To rub out. governed by

VERTICAL 1 Young goat. 21d. 3 Baseball team. - 4 Deity. 6 Armadillo. 7 To repay. 8 English coins.

4 ; 6 8 9

| a council of

ep— »

29 To seize. 22 Fuel. 23 Dregs. 24 Troops 26 Exclamation, 27 Jewel. 28 Important crop in his country. 30 Line. 31 Mountain. 3AYou. 34 Knock. 36 Type of poem 37 To tell. 40 Freer from ‘pollution. 43 Lowest points 45 Genus of frogs.

46 Southeast 47 To exist.

48 Precept.

50 To piece out, - 51 To immerse 52 Tatter 53 Thing.

56 Musical note.

“He's an umpire, waiter—it's kis habit to dust off every plate

Feature Syndicate, Inc.

1’? .

| PF

Governor of Kentucky, $6500.

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