Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 6 October 1937 — Page 18

: CAST OF CHARACTERS PRISCILLA PIERCE—heroine, woman attorney. AMY KERR—Cilly’s roommate and murderer’s victim. . . JIM KERRIGAN—Cilly’s fiance. : HARRY HUTCHINS—Amy's visitor. SERGT. DOLAN—officer assigned to solve the murder of Amy Kerr.

young

strange

Yesterday: Cilly looks down from the roof and is startled to see that Mr. Hunter, paralyzed for years, walks about with ease in his own bedroom! .

CHAPTER NINETEEN

ITH a quiver of relief, Cilly awakened from a dream of horror- The warm morning sun shone through her open window. What a blessing the morning sun was! All through the night, she had been in Bluefields, where every street was a pitch-black roof, bordered by yawning, treacherous chasms, into which one pitched at the first halting misstep. Where all these streets converged, Jim had stood with arms outstretched to greet her, though a thousand shadowy policemen struggled to hold him back. And along the way drunken Corbetts mocked her, and paralyzed men arose from their wheel chairs to block her path. She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. Her heart still thumped from the excitement of her adventure in sleep. Under the. covers her feet were cold and damp. Her eyes traveled from one to another of the familiar objects in the room until she was finally, thoroughly, awake. " 2 ”

ODAY was Wednesday. Only two days since she had last heard from Jim, but what endless days they had been! How many more would she have to wait until he returned to lift the clouds? All the world would be right if she could hear his voice again, if she could feel the strength of his hand on hers. ... : Thoughtfully shé rose and dressed. Then, because she was S0 miserably lonely and forlorn, she walked down to the drug store on the corner for breakfast. On the way she bought a newspaper. The murder of Amy Kerr, she noticed, was still front page news. She read it as she drank her coffee. Returning to her apartment, she met Detective Martin in the hall. “Good morning, Miss Pierce,” he greeted. “I've just been through the house. Dolan wants everyone down at police headquarters this morning at 10:30.” “Very well, I'll be there,” Cilly assured him. She decided that she would be there at 10 o'clock to inform the Sergeant of her latest discovery. ” o ” ATER, however, when a burly policeman ushered her into a private room at police headquarters, she discovered she would have no opportunity to see the sergeant alone. Several of the Bayview tenants had arrived before her. They sat in. a semicircle around a plain flat-top desk, nervously expectant. She recognized the Downeys: so obviously mother and daughter. Mr. Hunter, looking feeble and frail in his wheelchair, was there with his wife. A blanket coyered his supposedly helpless limbs. Cilly felt an overwhelming urge to kick him in the shins as she passed, to see if he would jump. She wondered how the man had made the journey, wheel-chair and all. Detective Martin must have provided a special police car. Mr. Johnson arrived a few minutes after she was seated, and he was followed by a young couple— the Smiths, undoubtedly. As yet there was no sign of Mrs. Wheeler. Promptly at 10:30, Sergt. Dolan entered the room, followed by Martin. Dolan seated himself at the desk, his back to the double windows. Martin stood behind him, leaning against a window-sill.

” 2 ” “g\VERYBODY here, Martin?” Dolan asked. Martin checked with alist in his hand. “Didn’t get in touch with the Wheeler woman yet,” he reported. “The three other tenants are still out of town—but I don’t see the Corbetts.” The Corbetts. Cilly looked up in surprise. But, of course, they would be summoned. Mrs. Corbett's mother was the only person who actually saw the murder committed. Her testimony would "be very important. Even as Martin spoke, the door opened and they entered. Mr. Corbett, Cilly noticed, had survived his drinking very well. He was immaculate in a light gray tropical worsted, and he carried himself with an air of assurance. Mrs. Corbett, the same meek and humble woman Cilly had first met, followed her husband hesitantly into the room. She wore a nondescript blue voile dress, and it hung limply on her thin frame. Her face was pale and drawn. . Her mother, in spite of asthma, held her head high and entered the room with a firm step. There was a challenge in her dark eyes, and her chin was aggressive. Small wonder, Cilly

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thought, that Mrs. Corbett was nervous and haggard. What a life she must endure as the buffer between

these two dominant individuals—her

husband and her mother! # ” ” S soon as they were seated, Sergt. Dolan addressed the group: “You all know,” he began, in a calm, rather friendly voice, “a young woman was killed in a fall from the roof of the Bayview Apartments last Sunday night—or to be more exact, at 12:20 early Monday morning. We

have a witness present who can tes-'

tify that the girl did not fall, but was deliberately thrown from the roof. This is a cold-blooded murder, ladies and gentlemen, which we are investigating, and I need not impress upon you the importance of absolute truth and accuracy in answering my questions. Mrs. Shaw, you will please tell us again, in your own words, just exactly what you saw on the roof of the Bayview?” » £ J ” ’ S I told you, before, Sergeant,” she said in clear, crisp tones, “I was seated at the window of my bedroom in the St. Ann Apartments. I had not been feeling well, and I wanted to ‘get the air. It was very dark out—there were neither stars nor a moon—and ordinarily I could not see the roof opposite except when an occasional beam from one of the ships in the bay would pass over it. Suddenly I heard this frightful scream, and at that very instant a beam passed slowly over the roof opposite. I saw a man pick this girl up in his arms and deliberately fling her over the side of the house. That is all. I must have fainted. My daughter prepared an opiate for me, and I did not awaken until morning.” » 8 ”

“ HANK you, Mrs. Shaw. May I ask you if the light was sufficiently strong for you to recognize this man in any way?” “It was not.” Mrs. Shaw resumed her seat. Sergt. Dolan scanned the faces before him. “Now I am going to ask each of you to remember very carefully what happened Sunday night. We'll start with you, Mr. Hunter. You live on the top floor, directly under the roof where the murder was committed. Did you hear, any voices on the roof, any sign of quarreling?”

“No, Sergeant,” Hunter replied. He spoke in a frail voice, as if to match the infirmity of his limbs. “I must have been asleep. It was the scream

to the window. . . .” “Did you get up?” The man shook his head sorrowfully. “I couldn't do that, you see.” He made a futile gesture toward his legs. “I haven't walked in 20 years.” 2 ® ” ILLY stood up, her eyes afire. “Sergt. Dolan,” she cried, “will you ask Mr. Hunter how it happens, therefore, that last night from across the street I saw him walking about his bedroom in his pajamas?” The man gasped; he turned to stare at Cilly, and in his eyes there blazed the malevolent fear of a trapped animal. “Is that true, snapped.

Hunter?”

. “The girl's crazy,” he choked through dry lips. “She’s crazy or— drunk. I can’t walk . .. I have doctors’ statements to prove it.” For a moment, Cilly regretted her impulsiveness. She should have told the Sergeant about it privately, so

Dolan

Now it was merely her word against Hunter’s, and he would take special care not to be discovered again. “What time was this, Miss Pierce?” Dolan inquired. “Eleven o'clock, Sergeant. There is no mistake about it. I saw him... .” “Say! Wait a minute!” ” o ” ILLY spun around to face the man who suddenly interrupted her. It was Mr. Corbett. There was a malicious glint in his eyes. “In another minute, Sergeant, the young lady will be telling you about pink elephants,” he offered with tolerant amusements. “At 11 o'clock last night she was in my apartment, drinking rye highballs. And, believe me, she was in condition to see a great many things walking.” “That’s an outrageous lie, Corbett, and you know it!” Cilly turned to the Sergeant, shaking with fury. But in his eyes, she saw doubt and disappointment. It was part of his job to believe the worst—and he believed Corbett’s story. She could see it. From now on, the fight would be doybly hard.

(To Be Continued)

Mr.

Daily Sh

THE FAVOR—By Gladys Walter

ort Story

NDY BORDEN was leaving the shop when the telephone rang. He shrugged into his coat, straightened his tie with one hand and reached for the shrilling instrument with the other. “Hello. Yes. What's that? Can't, Rod, I haven't time. I'm on my way to the tractor show. These farmers have all got the buying bug. It’s harvest time for implement dealers right now, I've got to be on the job. . . . What?, . . . Oh now-w’ Rod! . . . Well, all right, a-l1-1 right,” grudgingly, “I'll be there in three minutes.” He jammed the receiver in place and stamped out. The starter whirred, the gears ground and the big car shot down the street. Annoying as the deuce, this inconvenience. And typical of Rod Lynch to insist upon seeing him at this precise moment. Borden spat and swore and swung up the Court House steps to the County Clerk's office. “Well,” he exploded from the doorway, “what is it, Rod? Make it snappy.” The dapper little clerk remained unruffled by his friend’s displeasure. “Sorry to bother you, Andy, but we have here a fellow who needs a friend.” 2 a

ORDEN spun around scowling, conscious for the first time that Rod Lynch was not alone. His penetrating glance swept the man before him, taking in the details of the shabby topcoat, the clean white collar with slightly frayed edges, the thin face and serious, troubled eyes, the set line of a well-formed jaw. “He wants to get married, Andy,” explained the clerk, grinning a bit foolishly. “The law of this state requires that the applicants for li-

Mind Your Manners

Test your knowledge of correct social usage.by answering the following questions, then checking against the authoritative answers below: 1. If one types his signature on a business letter, should he also sign his name with pen and ink? 2. Is it better to type a business letter than to write it in long hand? 3. In a business letter is it correct to write “Oct. 30”? 4. Is “Dear Madame” a correct beginning of a business letter to a woman whose name is not known? 5. Is it good business usage to write, “a bill in the amount of”? What would you do if—

You are writing a social note to a person in the city in which you live, address it— (A) Miss Martin Linn 230 East Avenue Louisville, Ky. Miss Martin Linn 230 East Avenue City # Miss Martin Linn 230 East Avenue Louisville

2 ” 2 Answers

(B)

©)

1. Yes. 2. Yes. -

3. The month should abbreviated. 4. Yes. 5. No, “a bill for.”

Best “What Would You 50 tion—(A) ;

not be

Do*

cense be legally free to marry, not relatives and divorced not less than a year. And this gentleman needs a witness that he and his friend are eligible.” 2 ” ”

NDY BORDEN’S glance passed 4L A over the stranger and settled indignantly upon the speaker. “Do |1 know him?” he rasped. “No, I | don’t know him. What the devil.” The stranger came swiftly forward. “I'll admit it’s irregular, Mr. Borden,” his quiet tone roughened and he swallowed. “But we were ignorant of the laws in this state. We' didn’t know we needed a witness. I ‘don’, know personally a soul in this town.” Borden shrugged. “Why not try our sister state? It's only a matter of 100 miles to the line. They say the law there isn’t so rigid.” The man shook his head. “There isn’t time. I've got to be back to work tomorrow. I've been out of. work for months. Now I've got a job, I can’t risk losing it by taking another day off. I'm not asking you to take me on blindly. I can prove that what I tell you is O. K.» “He's a member of your fraternal order, Andy,” spoke up Rod Lynch. “That's why I called you.”

i # s

OR a breathing space the two men stood motionless eye to eye. Then, “Let me see your credentials,” demanded Borden tersely. “You fellows make me sick,” he snorted, thrusting the proffered evidence back to the young man. “You're not in good standing. Your dues haven’t been paid for three years.

“I've met- that type of member before. He’s one who works his way in by hook or crook, skimming by for the sake of the advantages it gives him. Well, you can’t put it over on me. I'm no sucker.”

Two prominent knots had appeared along the young man’s jaw line. “So that's what brotherhood means to you, en? Good standing, not character. Paiduv dues rather than honesty of effort. I've told you that I've had a rotten break, been out of work for months. . “Have you ever walked from one employment agency to another until the soles of your shoes are worn thin? Have you ever worried without a dime in your pocket about room - rent, board bills, as well as unpaid lodge dues? Have you ever had the squarest girl in the world waiting for you, believing in you? No, you haven't, or you wouldn’t be like this now.” ’ 2 2 2

“PDUT man,” protested the other. “You're asking me to vouch for you. Without knowing. you from Adam, youre asking me to sign an affidavit that you're on the up and up. You're asking me to break the law... .” With a decisive movement, Borden turned away. “Sorry, partner. Call it what you like.” But when he would have gone, the younger man stepped before him. He was breathing heavily, a white line around his lips. “Listen!” he gritted, “you're not leaving this room until you see us through this. We'd have been married long ago, but Reva’s been married before. A big brute of a guy who fought her getting a divorce. She finally got it all right, but I was out of work then. . . . I—I can’t fail her now. She’s been so brave. . ..” His husky voice trailed into silence. ” ” ”

“TAN! Stan! A voice vibrant,

to the young man's side. (That's no good, dear,” she insisted placate ingly. “It will only make matters worse. Come, let’s go.” : Andy Borden allowed his sardonic glance to travel deliberately over the girl's face and form, his own

face um Under that mer-

color

which woke me up. My wife ran|

that he could check for himself. |

MJ frightened, rang out. A woman |. entered the office, crossed hurriedly

Fc ATE I nT Mei) Hh A WwW

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THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES | OUT OUR WAY

WEDNESDAY, OCT. 6, 1937 |

FLAPPER FANNY By Sylvia

“ew wlatt gt titan ge Lea "

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ANY 4

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=="1_. NEC. U. 8. PAT. OF *COPR. 1937 BY NEA SERVICE. INC.

LI'L ABNER

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“Is that the Jones’ old baby or the new one?”

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—By Al Capp |

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS '

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IT'S A CINCH...IM SUPPOSED A HECK OF A TIME ° BE THE FIFE" KEEPING YOUR TWISTED\ THE SPIRIT OF '78 LIMP ALL I WANT To!

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ASK THE TIMES

Inclose a 3-cent stamp for reply when addressing any question ot ract 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—1Is Scotch heather a member of the rhododendrum family? A—One kind of Scotch heather (the low species) belongs to the same family, Erica, as rhododendrum and mountain laurel. The heather is botanically named Erica Cineria.

Q—1Is there a city or town in France named Bruxelles?

A—No. It is the French spelling of Brussels, the capital of Belgium.

, Q—Did Max Baer ever knock out

King Levinsky?

A—Baer knocked him out in two rounds, Dec. 28, 1934, in Chicago.

drew her cloth coat closer around her, but her deeply fringed brown eyes returned his gaze without flinching. There was strength in her courage, victory. . . . Borden was the first to drop his eyes. “Wait!” he commanded jerkily. “Do you want this man?” She nodded, pride flamed in her face. “For all my life,” she replied evenly, and the young man’s protective arm went around her.

Borden turned his back upon them. “Give me that damned affidavit, Rod,” he growled, “and make it snappy.” Five minutes later the two men were alone. Departing footsteps rang on the stairs. “Whew!” grinned Rod Lynch, still a bit embarrassed

‘by the unexpected turn of events,

“that girl sure bowled you over.”

“Did she? Well, maybe she" did. You see, she divorced me a year ago.” :

THE END The characters in this story are fictitious. (Copyright. 1937. United Feature Syndicate)

QL By Dr. Morris Fishbein American Medical Journal Editor NY woman who has been troubled with cancer or tumor of the breast should know that modern medicine, given a chance, provides ways of extending life.

The average length of life after discovery of cancer of the breast is 38 months, but scientific medicine has advanced so far that any woman who is treated early with this condition has a good chance of living for 10 years or more. In 1878, a famous German surgeon found that 23 per cent of the women on whom he operated with cancer of the breast died and that less than 5 per cent lived for more than three hours after the operation. Today as many as 70 per cent of women in whom the diagnosis is made early will be found alive and well 10 years after treatment is begun. Probably the best-figures are those developed by the Medical Research Council of Great Britain. It was found that a woman with cancer of the breast who is not treated at all may expect to live 17.2 per cent of the normal duration of her life. ® 2 8 WOMAN operated on under ordinary conditions may expect to live 30.4 per cent of her normal duration.

However, a person operated on under the most favorable conditions,

when the tumor is seen early, may |

expect to live 68.5 per cent of the normal duration. : J In one hospital, 80.1 per cent of women operated on while the growth was still confined to the breast were alive 10 years after operation. But 91.3 per cent of ‘those operated on after the glands under the arm were involved by the cancer were dead within 10 years. A woman in England 55 years old normally expects to live 18.87 years longer. If she develops a cancer of the breast and is not treated promptly, she may reasonably expect to live 3.25 years. If, however, the cancer is diagnosed early and she is given adequate treatment, she may expect to live 12:93 years.

GRIN AND BEAR IT

| IF I DIDN'T SHOW UP AT

PECPLE WouLD ASK

8 MILES LATER- { (- PEE-KOOLYAR Ta 2 AN: TH. OTHE!

“ «JES'A MEST SF Shist

TEE N =

NO SIR ,NUTTY...IM GONNA | [YOULL NEVER MAKE PLAY FOOTBALL “THIS ITT A CHAIR, FRECK.! YEAR, AND IM NOT WANT ME TO GIVE GONNA BE BENCHED ON ACCOUNT OF t A BAD ANKLE !

You DON'T NEED TO, 2 NUTTY... THIS PRETTY GIRL, HERE, HAS ALREADY GIVEN ME onNE !!

TEL 1 3 "7=TIGER RAG -L-LOUD}

i“ Bottle Inspection

At The Polk Plant

Conr. 1937 by United Feature Syndicate, Inc.

POLK'S MILI / . a Laboratory Tested