Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 25 June 1937 — Page 34

SUPERSTITION MOUNTAIN

By Oren Arnold

CAST OF CHARACTERS CAROLEE COLTER, heroine, pector’s daughter. STUART BLAKE, tourist; Carolee’s lover. HENRY COLTER, prospector. PAUL AND SILAS COLTER, prospector’s sons. NINA BLAKE, Stuart’s sister. Yesterday: The Blakes meet the Colters and a shot rings out of Fred Potter’s store. Officer Burke sprints to the scene.

CHAPTER TWO

O more shots were fired, but Officer Jim Burke caught a glimpse of frozen drama when he entered Potter's store. Mutual surprise, astonishment, seemed to be written on everyone's face. Fred Potter came to life first. “Now, now, Jim, it’s all right! all right!” Fred greeted him. Aust had a little—" “The hell it is! I wisht I'd killed him! I'll do it yet!” Paul Colter was almost shouting it. He struggled to be free from his father and his sister who held him. “Now, now, gentlemen—let’s all calm down—let’s all—” Fred Potter and Mr, Blake Sr. were bustling about in a silly manner, both talking and both saying nothing that aided Officer Burke. Carolee Colter pleaded with her brother to be quiet.

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HE policeman made a quick and unexcited survey of the situation, then addressed his remarks to a rather handsome, welldressed, but somewhat bloody young man sitting awkwardly on the floor. “What about you, brother? You shot? Who's done what here, anyhow?” Stuart Blake looked up. He nursed his chin in the palm of his hand. Blood dripped between his fingers. But he gazed at the policeman and grinned. “Listen, officer,” said he, “don’t ever kid a stranger about hunting for gold. Might touch a sore spot. ‘And especially don’t make ‘a pass at his pretty sister.”

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“ HO you been kiddin’?” Not Stuart Blake's, but a feminine voice, answered the officers. “He was not kidding!” spot out Carolee. “He was insulting! He got to mocking my brother, as if he were a yokel. It’s he that ought to be arrested, not Paul.” “Paul now, who'll he be?” asked Officer Burke. “Wait—wait a minute—I'll tell the whole story, Jim!” Fred Potter had collected his wits. “It was what you might call an accident. Won't do to have a mess in this store. Everybody's guilty, nobody’s guilty. Blake, here, called this man ‘Si’ and acted smart without reason, right enough. Happens the man is named Silas, and ‘Si’ is a sore point with him,

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“ IS brother, Paul, is quicktempered—gosh, man, you're a fool to be shooting like that!—and when Silas cut Blake with his fist, Paul jumped up and accidentally knocked over his rifle. It went off, but done no harm. I can testify to this accident at headquarters, Jim; that is, if Blake here sees to it that glass is paid for.” Officer Burke has been on that beat as long as Fred has been in that store. They understood each other. “Fred, youre a damned liar, but I believe you! Accident it is. But what's the girl to do with this?” “Nothing. She was just—"

8 8 2

UT young Blake here. “Yes, she had, officer,” said Stuart. “She saved my life! That rifle was aimed—I mean it was accidentally falling right at me when she jerked it aside!” “Yeah? Thought you told me you was gettin’ fresh with her?” “I was. But I didn't mean it. All I said was, ‘You've got one pretty nugget in the family already.” Her brother took it wrong. Im, sorry, gentlemen, and I apologize. I butted in on your affairs. I'm good at that, but I don’t often get shot-at for it.”

” s »”

HEN Stuart walked over to Silas Colter and offered to shake hands. Silas only glared, motionless. Paul, too, was openly hostile. Hatred shone in his eyes. For the Colter brothers, young Blake epitomized all that they had come to despise. Clannish, unrefined, surely, they distrusted anybody who clung nearer the other end of the social scale, : “Well I—it’s all I can say, now,” Stuart was obviously embarrassed. This was his first experience at having an apology refused. And he, too, was out of his accustomed setting. He dropped his hand and stared helplessly at the Colters. Blessed be the peacemakers, and Fred Potter is one of them. In 10 seconds he had separated the two groups, had the Blakes going toward the door and the Colters huddled near the stove in silence. Only Carolee Colter’s eyes followed the Blakes.

s » »

.@QHE wore a queer expression as she watched them go out. Her face was flushed, and lovely. Abruptly she glared a moment at her two brothers, then with no explanation she herself hastened out the door. The Blakes were entering a -taxicab. They had paid Officer Burke two 50-dollar bills for the glass, the old gentleman adding a 10-spot “for court costs,” with a pat on Jim Burke’s shoulder. Jim saluted his thanks respectfully and was about to leave when Carolee came up. “Mr. Blake, I just wanted to say that it’s all right” she was flushed, but determined. “Paul shouldn't

pros-

Eastern “dude”

It’s “We

interrupted

have acted like that, and—well, whenever anybody apologizes, it's all right!” Nobody spoke for a moment. Stuart looked at her in surprise. Unexpectedly he was receiving, not offering, an apology. 2 8 =

HE wore her best, but she was not dressed well. Nevertheless, her coat and her hat were becoming. Bobbed curls peeped out; honey-colored collegiate curls. Carolee offered sharp contrast to the others of her family. “Sure! Sure, Miss— I didn’t learn your name,” the young man almost murmured, in his confusion. “It was all my fault. I didn’t mean to be fresh when I called you a pretty nugget.” “You weren't fresh.” “Yes, I was. You said so. Anyhow it's the way we say things, not what we say, that sounds awful sometimes.” ” ” UT you weren't. It’s not an insult to call a girl pretty. We— we like it!” She smiled at him then. “I got mad because I—well, I have had some advantages that Paul and Silas haven't, and I won’t have them embarrassed about it. They're good to me. But they're strange boys, men really. And we're pretty desperate about money. I mean about this gold mine, Father and the boys bought a map which a man swore would locate i‘, and you called it a gold brick. I don’t know —I was glad enough for a change, but Paul and Silas are sensitive about it, and—" “I know. I pop off too much. I acted like a heel, Miss—-" But the girl didn’t supply a name. She just smiled again, turned and went away. The two Blakes, Officer

1937, NEA SERVICE, Inc.

Burke, even the cab driver, watched her re-enter Potter’s store. “Doggone!” exclaimed the officer. “Nothing illegal about that! Her family may be from th’ sticks, but th’ girl—she shines!”

8 u 8

IVE minutes later a drugstore boy brought a box of candy into Potter's and presented it.to Carolee. “Swell looking feller, miss,” the boy announced. “Said to tell you he was very, very sorry, ma’am.” Carolee colored a Iittle, then opened the five pounds of chocolates. “See? See?” Fred Potter was as elated as if the candy had come for him. . “What'd I tell you? Everything’s all right! Nice young man, that Blake. You folks’ll prob’ly be seeing them again. Didn't they say .they was going up in the mountain, too?”

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HE Colter men glared at the candy, but they said nothing. Other people had come in, and the Colters were ill at ease under so much attention. The old man herded his family back out to their rattly car. A half hour later, when the store had cleared momentarily of customers, Fred Potter said to his assistant manager, “Danged if I know what it is, but there’s something about Superstition Mountain that breeds trouble. It dogs everybody that starts up there. Look at them people this morning.” “It’s the Indians’ curse on gold,” half sericusly. “Me, I ain’t going up there.”

(To Be Continued)

Daily Short Story

BY CANDLELIGHT—By Edward A. Lawrence

SAID to the waiter, “A bacon-and-tomato sandwich. and a glass of skimmed milk, please.” And I looked again at “Swede” Johnson's left eye. “Swede,” view from any angle, is no pulchritudenous prize package. With hair the color of wet hay, and a round pink face, he looks somewhat like a grownup Dresden doll; but, withal, vast, slow-spoken and as somber as only the Nordic can sometimes be. He was the perfect foil for his slight, dark-haired wife, wife, Dorinda. But it was the eye that fascinated me. It was of a delicate royal purple shade, and completely closed. “Why don’t you get a pair of dark glasses?” I said helpfully. “Swede” shrugged and absently folded and refolded his napkin. His

A Waiter Brought in a Cake”

good blue eye contained a bright retrospective gleam. He had been an excellent boxer in college (good ol’ class of '27); and even in spite of his increasing years and expanding girth I couldn't see how anyone could have reached him so solidly. .

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# ID you run into a door,” I cracked, ‘“or fall down, or just neglected to smile when you said it?” “Swede’s” good Cyclopian orb swiveled vaguely in my direction. “Aren’t women hell?” he said. “Women?” I muttered, off-bal-ance. “Yes,” I concluded, and nodded solemnly. “They sure are,” he mused. The waiter brought my milk and sandwich, and “Swede’s” bowl of noodle soup. It was the noon hour, and the. babble and hubbub, as usual, afforded us a companionable sense of isolation. “I wouldn't have to tell you why or how I got this beauty,” he said suddenly, “if you had been in town last night and had been as observant as I should have been.” “Yes,” I encouraged him, remembering flinchingly his indefatigable penchant for practical joking. He tasted the soup and burned his tongue. “Yesterday was Dorie’s birthday,” he said over his napkin. “You remember I told you I was going to give her a surprise?” “Yes” “Well, IT had it all fixed up—an old-fashioned party at the Richlowe. I called her up yesterday afternoon and said, ‘Dorie, rig up and let’s go out and eat at the Richlowe tonight for dinner." She didn’t know what to think at first, because I'm not much of a diner-outer, liking home cooking ‘like I do, but she finally said okay, she’d be ready. ; “Well, we went down to the Richlowe. and I took her through the lobby and into one of those rooms they have for private parties and

such, and she kept asking where we |

were going, like women do, you

know, who scent a pleasant surprise.” : ” » ” “* ELL, we go on in—the pink room or the rose room, or something—and the gang's all there, per schedule, Jim Bailey and Tess, Jack, Louella and the bunch. You were out of town.” “Sorry as everything.” “Anyway, she was tickled to death.

She thought I'd forgotten all about it being her birthday, see?” I nodded. : “Well, we all take our places, and pretty soon a waiter brought in a big cake I'd asked the management to supply.” A mistiness came into Swede’s good eye, and his jaw knotted belligerently.. “What I'd like to do,” he interjected, “is to get that chef, or whoever was responsible, up some dark alley somewhere. However, they brought the cake in, and it was all lit up with candles. “I noticed at the time how Dorie looked at that cake. She looked at it and her lips would move; and it occurred to me later that everybody was doing the same thing. I thought at the time that they were just admiring it.” “Yes.” “Well, finally, she quit looking at the cake and she looked at me. She just sort of stared, if you know what I mean, and said nothing. I never paid much attention to it at the time; everybody seemed to be having such a good time. And about 12 the party broke up. “I noticed she didn't have much to say on the way home, and when I asked her if she had enjoyed herself she just sort of said, ‘Uh huh, in a dreamy kind of way. I thought she ‘was just sleepy.

2 ” ®

ELL, we went on home, and I was standing in front of the dresser loosening my tie when Dorie came in with that peculiar dark expression in her eyes that she can turn on sometimes; so I asked her what was wrong.” Swede sipped soup for a while. “Do you know what that woman did?” : I smiled and said, “No; what did she dc?” : “Well, first she kissed me. That, she said, is for the party and for being so considerate and all that stuff. And then—well, she got upon her tiptoes—like a fool, I thought she was going to kiss me again— and she let me have it, bam!” “She did?” I said, accenting both words. : “She did,” he replied, and I thought there was a touch of pride in his shining eye, “I owe it all to the little lady.” : “But why?” I laughed, not understanding this odd demonstration of affection. Besides, Dorinda had always been a very well-behaved girl. He grinned. “I told you that when the cake was brought out at the party she stared at it and seemed to mumble, and then looked at me with that gentle-executioner look?” ' . “Yes,” I replied, that.” “And you know how I like my little joke now and then?” I acquiesced. ‘Well, she seemed to have put two and two together—like women often do—and got the wrong answer. Anyway, on that cake—and she said she counted them at least a dozen times—there were 30 candles. i “My wife,” Swede explained, “was 29 years old yesterday.”

| ~~ THE END

“you told me

|Copyright, 1937, United Feature Syndicate]

| The characters in this story are fictitious

‘Ice Cold

Meant no harm. |.

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THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

FRIDAY, JUNE 25, 1937

OUT OUR WAY

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“How long shall we stay out today—rare, medium or well done?”

By Al Capp

A FRIEND OF Pop's!

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FLATTERN A PANCAKE ! GUESS WE CAN'T MAKE IT “TO PEORIA! I WANTED TO SEE MR.SOULES..HES

GEE THAT TIRE HAS [THREE BOOTS IN IT, AND FOURTEEN PATCHES ON THE TUBES! WELL NEED A NEW TIRE , BUT WHAT'LL

GET RID OF HM! LETS DRIVE OFF AN' LEAVE

SKI-TSKI-TC OK ME. NIGH ON FIVE MINLITES T'POLISH OFF THEM THREE GENNLLMEN. IT JES’ SHOWS HOW THESE. LATE HOURS IS HARMIN’ A GOOD

WE CAN'T BRNVE THIS HEAVY TRAILER ON A FLAT! IT MIGHT BUST THE WHEEL!

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MESS OF BUMPS ON THE HEAD

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—Can earthquakes be predicted? A—Not hy any scientific means.

Q—Has a Jew ever been Prime Minister of Great Britain? A—Benjamin Disraeli, a Jew, was British Prime Minister during the reign of Queen Victoria.

Q—What is the name of the Philip Morris page boy? A—Johnny Roventi.

Q—What is the origin of the proverb Romans do?” . A—It is based on the advice of St. Ambrose to St. Augustine, quoted by Jeremy Taylor, “If you are at Rome, live in the Roman style; if

you are elsewhere, live as they live

elsewhere.”

Q—Which countries send ambassadors to the United States? A—Argentina, Belgium, Brazil, Chile, China, Cuba, France, Germany, Great’ Britain, Italy, Japan, Mexico, Peru, Poland, Spain, Turkey, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. The rank of the envoy of Ecuador, Captain Alfaro as Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary is for the duration of the boundary negotiations between the Government of Ecuador and Peru. Q—What was the highest note sung by Lily Pons in “That Girl from Paris?” : A—“E” natural.

Q—Are there more boats on the Ohio River today than there were between 1800 and 1900? A—There are fewer today, but

they are larger and more powerful.

“When in Rome, do as the].

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“Every dollar he makes he puts on his back!"

The basic protection of American democracy is freedom. of the nation’s teachers to determine the curriculum, use of the result of unbiased research, and make adjustments to meet individual ang social needs.— Vr. N. L, Englehardt, Columbia University.

There should be no such thing as flunking. It is responsible for creating an inferiority complex which is directly contributing to delinquency.—Judge C. W. HofIman, Cincinnati, O., who would

abolish a school system which permits flunking.

WELL,1 SEE YOU FELLAS BRAVGHT SOME BAGGAGE WITH YOU FROM YOUR LITTLE

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