Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 7 June 1937 — Page 14

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES . OUT OUR WAY 1 1 OOOOH ~ NOW WE'LL HAVE

IT_ TILL _BEDTIME ~~ THEN FOR. BREAKFAST! "LOVE NEST IN TH

— MONDAY, JUNE? 103 ‘By Williams | FLAPPER. FANNY By Sylvia:

mere

and it is further agreed, will pay to the party of the

Ine.

CAST OF CHARACTERS PATRICIA WARREN, heroine, secretary to Don Monteray, actor-playwright. TRISSY WARREN, Pats’ cousifi and roommate in New York. : DON MONTERAY, Patricia’s actor-em-ployer. . ROSAMOND AKERS, Patricia’s rival.

Yesterday—Don proposes te Pats, who - replies she will give her answer the next . day. Returning to her hotel, Pats is apprehended by detectives and rushed to police headquarters as a blond diamond thief suspect.

~ CHAPTER TEN x ATS’ mind skittered about like leaf in a whirlwind. Confused with her diverse roles, she admittedly faced a threatening dilemma. The detective spoke “admiringly. “Say, you've got a nerve, hiding out at that swell joint on Park Ave. Pretty slick I say. I saw you go in and I saw you come out but -not a soul in the place ever heard of you. - I mean that takes nerve.” : Pats remained silent. He -had seen her go in. -When? She darted: a glance at him. Suddenly the vague feeling that she had seen him before cleared and she remembered. It was he who had looked at her so strangely in the Goddard Hotel. The very fact that she entered by one door and made a hasty exit by another, coupled with her appearance when the police were combing the city for a blond girl, had been enough to cast suspicion upon her. & u 2

S they 1ade slow progress through the crowded streets Pats came to a decision. The time for playing games was past and gone. She would tell the truth, possibly not all the truth, but nothing else, At last the cab stopped before > a towering building and her captor suggested affably that they make a call on the district attorney. Pass--ing through the foyer and into the elevator, he walked close to her, his gimlet eyes watchful Pats’ knees |shook and only with difficulty she eontrolled her breathing. ~The more she tried to formulate a convincing explanation the more involved she became. Actually there was no siich person as Goldilocks so how coiild she be explained? The district attorney, a wellgroomed, youngish man, rose abruptly from his desk as Pats and the detective entered his office. Several reporters crowced near as he listened to the detective’s story. Pats heard him say, “Been trailin’ her— Avalon—bold a§ brass—fits description—has disguise in her bag—" The color drained Irom her face, it felt stiff and drawn. Then the district attorney asked her to step to the desk. ? ” ” 2 ATS took & deep breath, swallowed hard with a little ducking movement of her chin. “Name, please?” “Mrs. Don Monteray,” she answered in a small voice. The district attorney’s eyebrows raised just a trifle, the stoutish gentleman who had brought her in grinned. “And your address?” “Avalon Hotel.” Her eyes gazed at him imploringly. He looked kind, understanding—" + “Can you prove that?” With trembling fingers Pats opened her purse. Fumbling for her bank book the brown wig crowded into view. She felt rather than saw the significant glance which passed between the onlookers. Frantically she hunted. Everything got in her way—coin purse, tinted glasses, ambercomb, compact and always, the wig. Her questing fingers found the small wedding ring. About to display the ring as evidence she _ dropped it back. It was valueless. No initials had been engraved inside. Hers had not been that kind of a marriage.

” ® 2 “Wha S the idea of the wig?” was the next question. . Pats .opened her lips. The truth —nothing but the truth. 4I—I wear it sometimes,” she faltered. : “1 see. Can't you find—whatever you're looking for?” Pats shook her head. The bank book was not there. It was no doubt in the bag she had carried that morning. She raised deep blue eyes—two huge tears were caught in the lashes. “1 can’t find it,” she quavereq with a pitiful little catch in her voice. “But I'm telling you the truth— please let me go—" Affter an hour’s questioning, the attorney muttered something to himself. It sounded like, “Innocent as a baby—” Then he commanded, “Get. Monteray on the telephone. You, Johnson—" Pats’ thought raced madly. Frantically she yearned for Don. Alc though he was in the dark con-

| mike. .

‘Is she your wife?” asked the district attorney point blank. ‘Well rather.” Don laughed hdly and took his handkerchief to| wipe Pats’ drowned eyes. “All right now?” He seemed undisturbed by the interested onlookers. «Come, darling, you need your tea or| perhaps something a bit stronger!” Gently he guided her toward the door. Johnson rubbed his chin urjcertainly. The district attorney muttered, “I told you so,” and went back to his desk. The reporter looked disappointed. Almost in the safety of the hall there was a bad moment. ‘Say, Monteray,” said Detective Johnson, “I thought your wife had dark hair—saw you with her at the theater . . .” Pats took a quick breath but Dan laughed easily. “So ‘that’s the trouble.” Lightly he touched Pat's cheek in a teasing gesture. “I’ll tell you something, boys,” he said over his shoulder. “You never know from one day to the next what color your wife's hair is going to be.” With that he closed the door behind them and hurried Pats through the outer office. 2 ” HE elevator was crowded, no chance for conversation there. The foyer was thronged with people. “Don—,” Pats began as reached the street. “Not now, dear,” he said quickly. “I don’t know what it’s all about but I'm on your side.” Almost running, they reached Don’s car. Edging into the traffic he threw an anxious glance over his shoulder. Pats sat still, wondering where to begin. Don was engrossed in making speed throuh the congested street. He barely made a green crossing light and laughed exultantly, caught the next at the last possible second and sped on.

.| jerky sentences, working out the de-

they.

“Don—"_ She must tell him. “Later, darling—I'm thinking.” Recklessly he slid between a bus and a taxicab. | “But, Don—listen—I am your wife.” Breathlessly she tried to marshal her explanations, to sort out the best words with which to meet his incredulous questions.

” » ol

UT if Don heard her the words - made no impression. “Look,” he said earnestly. “I've got it figured out. I'll get in the outer traffic line and at the next stop for lights you slip out. Those birds were only half convinced. They may be on your trail again right ‘now but we've lost them for the moment.” “Don— Please listen to me—" “Let me talk, sweetheart. Go into a shop and wait, say 20 minutes, then grab a taxi and go out on the Post Road where we had tea. Those women are friends of mine, tell them the truth if you must. Wait there for me, Ill see Patricia, get her to attend to the annulment tomorrow morning and follow as soon as I can.” He was talking in

tails as he went along. * “I'll have you across the Canadian line by morning.” Traffic had stopped. Don leaned across to open the door on Pats’ side. “Now, darling—don’t be frightened—do as I say.” As Pats found herself literally shoved into the street she screamed, “Don, if youd only listen—let me tell you—" #Tell me tonight,” he shouted as the outer line moved. Half laughing and wholly dazed, Pats signalled the first passing cab. “The side door of the Avalon hotel,” she said.

(Té Be Continued)

Daily Short Story

$50 MARRIAGE—By Lyman Anson

RAMED in the window marked “Marriage Licenses,” old Henty’s grim face offered little encouragement to successive applicants this noon. He was in a sour mood. “Full name?... Age?,.. Married before?...” 1 \ Having sent one more couple on their way, Henty was starting to stare into space again, when Harrington called to him from-“Dog Licenses” on his right. “Cheer up, Henty! that broadcast guy!” Peering out with watery eyes, Henty saw a businesslike young man coming down the corridor, followed by an assistant carrying a microphone in one hand and a box-like contraption of wire and gadgets in the other. Henty remembered then. The arrangements had been made the week before.” They were planning to broadcast an interview with some couple—any couple—just before they bought their license. The businesslike young man and his assistant set up the microphone and gadgets near the Marriage License window, then chatted with Henty as they waited for a couple. Presently, a thin, awkward youngster and a small, dark-haired girl arrived to apply for a license. Henty watched as the radio man approached them and explained what was wanted. Henty’s gaze lingered on the girl's eyes—they were so big, so softly illumined, so terribly earnest.

Here comes

” ” 2 HEN, the young couple was led to the microphone, The announcer, glancing at his wrist watch, began speaking into the instrument. ] “Ladies and gentlemen! This broadcast is coming to you from the Marriage License Bureau in the Court House. We're going to ask a happy young couple a few personal questions right here in front of the . . Little closer, please .. . The couple placed themselves according to direction. Henty, watching, thought he'd never seen redder hair than the boy’s—except, perhaps, his own at that age. He'd had almost as many freckles, too . . . - The old man’s mind flashed back over 35 years to another darkhaired girl—one who had wanted to marry him when $50 was all he owned in the world. But he had hesitated, afraid to take the chance. Then, suddenly, it was too late . .. He'd been a bachelor ever since, with nothing of that thwarted romance left but bitter memories— and a time-worn $50 bill. This he

cerning her identity he would ‘see the years, preserved flat in wallet

her through this nightmare until! explanations could be made. Throwing discretion to the winds she timidly told the district where Don could be found. And, after a nervewracking wait, Johnson was talking’ to him. Noncommittantly, he told. him where to come. / ” ” ” | ? os LOOD sang in Pats’ ears. Don was coming. He would ‘try to help her' but what could ‘he do? She had a wild idea of donning the wig and glasses, even tremblingly opened her purse but with the cold eye of the law upon her * she was incapable of action. The room grew dark, the edge of the desk seemed to be slipping from between her fingers. Faintly she heard Detective Johnson arguing with his * chief. : “Mistake nothing. Just a clever actress—Monteray’s wife dark— _homely—" With every passing instant Pats’ nerves grew more taut. . Then there was the sound of _quick steps beyond the door and Don burst into the room. His face was white, his eyes, darting in search of Pats, terror-stricken, his mouth grim. For a split second her eyes implored him, her hands went out in frantic appeal. “Then she flew to his arms. ~. “That man,” she sobbed, pointing at Johnson who watched them with narrowed eyes, “brought me Jere and I don’t know why. And hat man,” moving her finger acRusingly in the direction of the disArict attorney, “asked me questions. {He asked me my name and when I ‘told him I was your wife he didn't ‘believe me.” The tear-drenched ‘eyes she raised were black with en‘treaty. At her words, a quiver ran :through Don’s big frame but he .gathered her closer. ; ” s s - (“FT HERE, there, darling,” he i said, and over her head,

| after wallet. The mere keeping of it \had become an obsession. But now... \ ” 2 » “ ELL -me,” the announcer. was —71 saying, “how did you two hapVpen to get engaged?” : The boy cieared his throat. ‘Well, y’'see, Ellen and I went to the same high school and—well, it just happened.” “We'd have been married long ago,” the girl explained, “only John —that is, jobs are pretty scarce—" “I sure. tried every place,” the youth said, “until at last—.” He stopped. “Well, what sort of job did you finally land?” - the announcer prompted. : A flush passed over the boy’s thin face. He shifted uncomfortably. “Not any yet,” he admitted. “Not a real one. Just little odd jobs here and there. But what you can make on them counts up—’'specially when you're so anxious to get married.” “He’d been fooling me all the time!” the girl laughed. “Never told me till just last night that he had enough saved up to — to take a chance. Fifty dollars!” “Fifty dollars!” exclaimed the announcer incredulously. “Do you mean to say you're going to get married on that?” “Maybe it isn’t so much, mister,” the boy confessed, “but you can't ever tell what's going to happen, so we figured we'd get married, anyhow—before it was too late.” “Well, well! I'm sure our whole radio audience will be wishing you both the best of luck—" Henty didn’t hear the rest. He was too far in the past, reliving his own

had this young chap’s nerve—before it was too late! : ” » ” HE snapped back to the p+ esent with the, realization that the young couple were standing before his window, With a sigh, he picked

“What's the meaning of this?”

up his pen.

’ | stopped at a newsstand to buy a

had carried with him down through,

shattered romance. If only he had |

Married before? ...... Finally, the license was handed over to the young man, who turned in triumph toward = his adoring fiancee. “Dollar and a quarter,” prompted | Henty. ¥ “Huh? Oh, sure—I nearly forgot.” The youngster dug eagerly for his pocketbook, and pulled out a bill. He handed it to Henty, and stood grinning at the old clerk as he waited for his change. : Then, suddenly, his grin faded as he saw Henty staring intently at the bill. “Where did you get this?” Henty asked, sternly. . A look of terrified recognition flashed across the boy's face. Swiftly he swept the girl behind him, and lunged halfway through the window. “Don’t say anything, mister!” he whispered frantically. “Please, mister—just take it and don’t say anything! She doesn’t know. I—I didn’t know what I was doing—honest! Please don't say anything—she doesn’t know!” Then, before ‘Henty could open his mouth, he had turned and was dragging the girl after him down the corridor. Slowly, the normal pallor of Henty’s face was replaced by a dull, angry red. . “Joe!” he yelled to a uniformed guard. “Quick! That fellow going out with the girl!” : The guard lumbered off, returning almost at once with the rather ghastly young man, followed by the wide-eyed girl, Behind them trailed a pack of curious onlookers. “Wh-what do you want John for?” the girl demanded. ” ” ® . RIMLY, old Henty sat glaring at the youth who, the night before, had robbed him of his one cherished possession. Henty had

magazine. As he had pulled a bill from his wallet, the precious $50 bill had accidentally slipped out and fallen to the sidewalk behind him. But by the time he had turned to retrieve |it, someone in the passing throng had snatched it up. It had happened so swiftly, that he hadn’t been able to spot the thief. But now, there was no mistake. Here was the bill [in his hand— thrust there, a few minutes ago, by this red-haired youth. He'd recognized it at once—he knew its every mark and wrinkle by heart. Hadn’t he cherished it for 35 years? He'd know it anywhere! Besides, the boy had given himself away. ... “What dec you want him for?” the girl said again. Henty shifted his gaze to her. She stood there clinging to the young man’s arm. As Henty looked into her wide, frightened, earnest eyes, his. mind flashed back once more through the years—to the bitterness of a long-regretted past. He glanced at the crowd, pressing close, like bloodhounds eager for the kill. He hesitated, the muscles around his mouth working oddly. Suddenly, he dropped the bill into his money drawer. Next, he counted out four crisp tens, a five, three ones, a. half dollar and a quarter. “Guess you forgot your change, John,” he said. He gave the dazed youth a penetrating look that only John could understand, and added, “Don’t ever do a thing like that again!” |

And he knew, from the expres- :

sion in John's that he

wouldn't.

|eyes,

THE END

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

The characters in this story are fictitious

Ask The Times Inclose a 3-cent| stamp for reply when addressing any question of fact or information to The Indianapolis Times Washington Service Bureau, 1013 13th St, N. W., Washington, D. C. Legal and medical advice cannot be given, nor can extended research be undertaken.

Q—When was the first labor strike in the United States? : A—Probably the strike of bakers in New York, in 1741. '

Q—Who was called the “Landlord of New York?” pn A—William B. Astor, son of John Jacob Astor. : Q—What is the forecastle of a ship? [:F : A—The inclosed portion forward

on the main deck, generally used for

seamen’s quarters,

DOOR ~~ GUY HASTA CRAWL |

THRU NECKIN' PARTIES TO GET |

IN — OH, YEAH! THERES

AND SO ON -TiLL=--TiLL--~ OOOH!"

COPR. 1937 BY NEA SERVIOR, INC. * T. Mi. REG. U. 8. PAT. OFF.

LI'L ABNER

SAVES DOGPATCH, LI'L ABNER MUST

He STARTED WITH $9.30ACTER

CENTS

30 LEFT.

CITY.

6-9

EARN #105/000.00-

SHREWD INVESTMENTS HE. HAS

Me ARRIVES IA A

FRIENDS

Cope. 1937 by United Tm.

FRECKLES AND HIS

WE MUST BE DOING NEARLY SIXTY! LOOK BEHIND

y Peature Synd Reg. U. S. Pat. Off. —All tights reser

6-7 ¢

“Aw, n

leate. Inc.

aw!

The most fun about playing sassing the teacher.”

“Don’t you want to change now and pretend Chuck's the pupil?”

school is

—aBy Al Capp

OUTA

MALLA U READ -2

= eo yz

TODAY'S BALANCE EARNED-O SPE : BANKROLL. -. GOAL -% 100,000.00

NT .25 oS

I WONDER )\ WHO WAS BLOWING

IF IT WAS ANY =~ BOY, IT WAS GABRIEL Y

HEAD INTO TH’ Ny BACK

LOOK WHERE WE ARE, AN’ HOW !

1 NEVER SAW NO PLACE ), LIKE THIS BEFORE! ~~

P, >

5 a vA F ERS Oa n Copr. 1937 by United Feature Syndicate, Ine. 4|

“It looks like an inside job-—I'll bet pop’s home again.”

- oe

‘§

12 Affray. 13 Epochs. 14 Inspired reverence. 16 Aceording 17 First king of Israel.

| 18 Form of “be”

19 Idant.

20 He was =—— of Commerce,

also. 22 Spain. 23 New star. 25 Earlier.

28 A senior. 29 Vexes.

33 Force. 35 Like.

1 Thirty-first President of the U: S. A.

24 Rowing tool.

27 Poker stake. 45 Stitches. 30 Long grass. 32 Containing metallic ore.

34 Hawaiian bird 51 Woolly.

36 Musical note.” -37Form of “a.” ’

Ww GOOD HONK, TH’ POOR OL DUFFER IS ABOUT ALL IN! LOOKIT ‘IM

~, na SL.

SWEAT, HEY! IT'S THAT THING Y'MADE 'IM WEAR-THAT HEAVY COAT OF MAMMQTH HAIR!

Y'SAY ? WHY, SURE -

CROSSWORD PUZZLE

HORIZONTAL Answer to Previous Puzzle

15 The great

A LIEIBIR

—— started in

m >

his adminis- *

tration (pl.).

E A R p

17 Disfiguremen®! 18 Part of circle, 21 Always.

22 To surfeit.

to. I)

mir |v |x[H

23 Stem joints.) 24.Solely. 26 Liquid part, of fat. :

M|O[Z[> VEZ IM» | PME > MOM

N L E E

27 Melodies. 29 To bellow.

U R N S E 1 {N D S P A R

D D P A R S G A D

O C

<r |b] Tv|wmDjof 100 Z

31 Ship’s record.

38 1 Contained. 2 Measure of cloth. 2 3 Thought logically. 46 To revolve. . 4 To subsist. 47 Domesticated. 9 Back.

6 Genuine.

50 Chief city in ~ g Bone. France. 9 To diversify.

by profession. 43 Lion. 44 Farewell!

52 He was in charge of wartime eee

5 6

12 Female servant.

3 7 P

10 Female sheep. 11 Musical note.

34 Unit. 36 Fine line of) a letter.

38 Opposed to odd. 39 Small island.) 40 Born. 41 Pitcher. 12 Electrical ) unit. 43 To entice. 44 Wine vessel. 46 Fish. 48 Morindin dre 49 Preposition. 50 Plural. ji aa

on 9 [lo [I

TERMILK

Keep a Half-Gallon Bottle On Hand!