Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 9 November 1937 — Page 22

JILL

CAST OF CHARACTERS JILL WENTWORTH, heroine, attractive debutante. ALAN JEFFRY, hero, artist. BARRY WENTWORTH, brother. SYLVIA SUTTON, oil heiress.

rising young

Jill's step-

Yesterday: Broken returns to his studio. A few minutes later Ardath appears. In desperation Alan, at Ardath’s suggestion, begins a portrait of her.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

HE shining scarf had given Ardath a subtle allure. But something was wrong. Those flat little curls which had been painstakingly pressed down over her forehead, held in place by thick blond braides. Alan frowned, and crossed the room to his dresser. He came back with a comb. “Mind?” he queried. Without waiting for her reply, he combed out the curls, releasing Ardath's young brow from the curly screen. “Oh, not at all?” Ardath answered sarcastically. “It doesn’t matter that I spent a dollar this afternoon to have my hair set like that. Just to impress you.” “I'm much more impressed this way.” Alan's voice was grim. “You have a classic brow. You might be some young Greek goddess, who has forgotten she is carved of stone, and has come to life. Ready to enthrail a mere earthly man with her beauty. “Are you enthralled?” Ardath asked boldly. 8

in spirit, Alan

® = “Y¥'M no man. I'm an artist. That is, just now.” A tide of color had washed over Alan's face. “And afterward?” Ardath persisted, softly. Alan was bending over his paints. He spoke slowly: “Afterward—after this sitting, I'll still be an artist. A very tired artist feeling that what he has done is foolish and futile. And you'll be a very weary girl, ready to call it a day. As for that dollar. What a price for fame. Maybe you'll hang in the Metropolitan gallery.” “And maybe I won't,” Ardath thought with the cynicism learned in the hard school of experience. “Maybe, I'll gather dust in this dump with a lot of other painted ladies. I wonder if he looked at that Russian girl as though he really didn’t see her. And if she felt as I'm feeling now.”

” ” u

RDATH couldn't have analyzed her own feelings. A chaotic combination of anger, helplessness, vanity, and what Ardath was accustomed to calling “love.” She was | being swept along by a swift emotional current past the boundaries! of restraint and dignity. “Take your handkerchief and rub off some of that rouge on your mouth,” Alan commanded. He] watched her lightly touch her lips with a handkerchief, and then he crossed over to her. “Here, let me show you.” He took the handkerchief and rubbed vig-| orously. “There, that's better. A goddess who's getting a soul doesn’t have lips like a scarlet poppy. Her lips are awakening . . . like a rosy dawn. You're trembling. Cold? Wait, I'll build up the fire. And maybe a cup of coffee would help both of us. It's going to be a long sitting.” Ardath’s lips curled contemptuously as she watched him stir the fire. Was there another man in the world who would have turned down the invitation of her lips while removing lipstick from them? He had a heart of stone. He had no heart at all. This was going to be an entertaining evening. 8 » » T was a long sitting. Alan worked intensely, without words. Twice he stopped to bring coffee and heap more coal on the open fire. Ardath found herself strangely fascinated and excited. He really was a grand painter, wasn't he? He would go places. And any girl | who got him would go places, too. Ardath was of that type who knew only one way to get a man. Entrap him with physical weapons. Her lips curved into warm invitation again, But her most alluring expressions were evidently being lost upon Alan. She began to droop in weary defeat. “Wake up,” Alan cried out with professional ruthlessness. “Let's quit.” Ardath suggested, | suddenly. “I'm—I guess I'm too tired to sit still any longer. It's late, and there's tomorrow. You don't have to punch a clock at 8 a. m. do | you?” “I'm afraid I've been selfish,” Alan said, compassionately. “I'm

fearfully sorry. I'l make this up to you. Models are well paid, you know.” “Oh, skip it,” Ardath said. “I: don’t want any money. It wasn't so bad really. Let's see what you've done.” Alan threw a cover over the canvas. “Wait until it’s finished. I'm afraid you wouldn't understand now what I'm trying to do. I'll call a taxi for you now.” “A taxi!” Ardath breathed. “I couldn't be walking in on my landlady at an hour like this. She's awfully strict, you see.

” ® =

LAN did see. She had believed this was one of those cheap adventures. Only it wouldn't be. He tried to keep the contempt out of his voice, to make it sound casual. “You want to stay here, then?” “If you don't mind. I could just curl up in a big chair somewhere.”

“1 wouldn't be comfortable at all |

sleeping in my bed. I've a better idea. I'm going to let you sleep there, while I go out for a walk. I frequently walk for hours when I'm restless.” “And you're restless now?” dath asked, her eyes on his. “Yes,” Alan replied. “I'll came back in time to take

Ar-

you out to breakfast,” Alan said. Ardath didn't speak for a moment.

“Put me out on the doorstep if you | us

like.” Her voice was choked. gon’t want to run you out.” “You're not running me out. I like nothing better than a tramp in a snow. You've been a good sport about the picture. Now try to get some sleep.” ® 8 = RDATH persisted. “It seems silly for you to leave. If you're thinking about my reputation—you needn't. I'm not a conventional person.” “No,” Alan said, his eyes meeting

her's steadily. “I wasn’t thinking of

that. Besides the night is already over. It’s close to 5 o'clock.” He went out, closing the door behind him. Ardath went back into the bedroom slowly. The covered canvas met her eyes, and angrily she turned back the cover. For a moment she stood regarding it blankly. Her own face, her own features. And yet it wasn't her. The soft, shining radiance on the face of the woman on the canvas bewildered her. Her lips had never curved in the sweet and gentle way this woman's did. Getting a soul, he had said! The arrogant fool! He had used her to paint this silly picture. He had been making fun of her all the time. In a blind fury, Ardath struck the canvas violently. All he had wanted was to paint like this. Well, he wouldn't have the picture. : ” ” » HE would leave before he came back. Just as soon as it was light. But she would leave a little reminder of her visit. With quick, savage fingers, she tore the picture from the easel, rolled it tightly and went over to the fire. For a moment, smoke curled about the canvas. Then, greedy flames leaped up.

“He'll be wild,” Ardath thought. “But I guess he'll know then, he didn’t make a fool outa me.” ® 8 = TAWNY glow was streaking the early morning sky when Jill drove away from the big, shadow-wrapped mansion. In her gray Persian coat and matching peaked cap, Jill was very lovely. Her white face was turning rose under the whip of cold, clean air.

BY MARY RAYMOND

Some of her dark mood began to drop from her like a too-heavy load. She was going to the man she loved. That was all that mattered for the moment. He would forgive her and understand. When big hurts came, petty considerations were washed away, like small ripples lost in the heavy roll of the sea. Here she was turning into 67th St, with its sleepy morning face powdered heavily with snow. And —Jill had stopped her car at the curb with a funny little quiver of nervousness—this was the address Patty had given her.

” » ”

EHIND that closed door was Alan. It was natural to feel this frightened clutch at her heart. She couldn't remember calling on a man she loved at this hour before! And she never could again! Inside, Ardath was aroused by the jangle of the doorbell. She came out of sleep slowly, with last night's anger and irritation creeping back with consciousness. It must be Alan coming back to make peace, changing his mind about being so high and upstage. He would be angry about that picture. There was only one thing to do. Brazen it out. She might get farther with crying. She had slipped into her dress, tugged on her slippers and started to the door. The bell rang again and Ardath muttered: “Coming, coming!” Her eyes were a little scared. He really had an awful temper. You could see it. She opened the door a little, and then wider, as she recognized the early morning caller, “Oh, it's you:” Ardath said, smiling defiantly at Jill.

(To Be Continued)

Daily Short Story

LOVE SETS SAIL—By Louise Wielandy

HE stood, as she had often imagined she would stand, leaning casually at the rail on the pier side of the new luxury ship, looking down across the few feet to the fence that safeguarded the excited throng. Everyone around her on the deck and below on the pier seemed at some peak of emotion.

Celia had an excellent position as secretary to the distinguished writer and lecturer, Mr. Howard Hamilton. When her employer told her that he would like her to accompany him to Europe for three months she had breathlessly reported the wonderful news to Jimmy, only to have him throw cold water on her pieasure. “You aren't going, of course,” he had said. Then after she had nodded yes, “Why, Celia, you can't be serious Even if it's all right to go gallivanting with a man old enough to be your father, it doesn’t look right! And besides, I'm about due for a raise——" Then he talked marriage, and a small flat in the Bronx. Eventually it came to a choice between her marvelous chance for a trip abroad, or keeping house for Jimmy. Celia wanted to eat her cake and have it, too. She argued that Jimmy was selfish to take this attitude; that they could marry when she returned. But wheedle as she might, Jimmy still said no. She could take him now, or not at all. He didn’t expect to see her when she returned.

“ ® = OW, actually on the ship, just a half hour from sailing time,

| | Celia began to wonder if she were | right.

It was dreadful how much she missed Jimmy already. A woman pushed into the space beside her to wave frantically to someone ashore. Her hat was slipping back and her face flushed, beaming. “Excuse me,” she said, noticing how she was crowding Celia. “I'm just so excited I'm about to burst. I never though I'd really get on a ship. My husband and I used to sit and dream about going abroad. Then we suddenly got a little legacy. Is it your first trip, too?” As she replied, Celia remembered the evenings she and Jimmy would sit in the park and talk about the

Mind Your

Manners

Test your knowledge of correct social usage by answering the following questions, then checking against the authoritative answers below: 1. Is it good manners for a motorist to get in the middle of the road and refuse to pull over when another motorist wants pass?

2. Is it as Important to observe the ‘courtesies of the road” as the rules for behavior at social functions?

3. Should one driving at night dim bright headlights when he meets another car?

4. Is it important that motorists be careful in throwing burning cigarette stubs from cars?

5. Is it all right for a driver or one riding in a car to put out a hand to point at scenery?

What would you do if— You are in a line of traffic teh is slow in getting starteg— (A) Blow your horn? (B) Swear? (C) Sit quietly and wait?

Answers

= n 8

1. No. Bad manners and dangerous. 2. More important, because safety is involved when one is in a car. 3. Yes. 4. Yes, so as not to hit a pedestrian or start a fire. 5. No, because the driver hehind will think it is a signal.

Best “What Would You Do” solution—(C). 3

strange places they would visit when Jimmy got to be a foreign correspondent for his paper. And the other plans— » » ” ESOLUTELY Celia moved away to join Mr. Hamilton. The woman's happy chatter made her feel blue, but that was only because she felt lonesome, she told herself. Mr. Hamilton was surrounded by a group of well-dressed friends, his iron gray hair mussed by the breeze, his hearty laugh ringing loud. He saw Celia, and smiled her way, but made no effort to include her in the group. She stood there a moment, listening to the quick talk, then turned away, feeling indignant. It was a first rebuff. His friends were all strangers to her, people she took messages from on the phone, or read about in society columns. He had friends in London and Paris, too. What did he expect to do with her then? Celia realized that in her capacity as secretary she was in for a lonely three months—sights or no sights. As she made her way across the thronged deck she tried to bolster her courage by telling herself that this incident was nothing, that Mr. Hamilton hadn't meant anything by it, and that it only showed how wrong Jimmy was to be so mean and suspicious about him.

& »

ACK on the rail, again, she absently watched the scene on shore, her thoughts in turmoil. She | was competent to look after herself. If Mr. Hamilton should prove to have ulterior motives—but he was not like that, she knew. There would be no such problem, She watched a young man stride up the gangplank laden with camera and tripod and other paraphernalia. He was swallowed up in the crowd, but presently, at a touch on her arm, she turned to find him doffing his hat to her. “Excuse me, miss,” he grinned, “put I wonder if you know Mr. Howard Hamilton, or if you could point him out to me. I'm late as it is, and I've got to snap the old buzzard, and I can't even spot a steward to help me.” “Yes, I know him,” Celia said, with dignity. “He's over on the other side of the deck, near the entrance to the bar. He's the one with the gray hair and no hat.” ” n »

K., lady, many thanks.” The . man disappeared. Shortly she felt that touch on her shoulder again, and found him back. “I got him, all right,” the friendly young man told her. “Wonder if you know which one of all those girls around him is his current ‘secretary’?” Celia resented his suggestive emphasis on the last word. “Why, what do you mean?” she asked, trying to seem disinterested. “Buddy of mine has photographed that old bird for years,” he told her confidentially. “Every time he goes abroad he's got some new sweet young thing along. He's a menace, that's what he is. Say, let me snap you, miss.” Abruptly she pushed by him, hating the fact that her cheeks were flaming. She stepped inside the salon, and from there found the empty corridor. She leaned a moment against the wall. Outside sa band began to play “Auld Lang Syne.” The noise spurred her to action, and Celia rushed along the passageway, found a steward, and gave him her cabin key.

a 8 ”

“Yo VERY piece of baggage is to come out,” she directed. “Do you think you can make it? Have I time? I simply must get off the boat.” So, as the band blared away the old favorite tune that brought tears to many an eye, Celia Morse walked back over the gangplank. Her stew-

of bags before her on the pier. Limply she sat down on her largest suitcase. People crushed 10 deep at the fence, waving. In a few moments Celia was able to look over their heads at the ship moving down the river—irrevocably gone— but she was glad.

n » » ELIA had scarcely disappeared

through the outer door to hail a taxi when a photographer entered

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES OUT OUR WAY

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THE RUBBER DUCK.

TUESDAY, NOV. 9, 1937 By Williams | FLAPPER FANNY

By Sylvia

Kin

JR WILLIAMS 1-9

“I don’t see any usc sending for the sample razor blade, Chuck, before you give that hair-grower a fair trial.” |

—By Al Capp

1 Saou AnD CRASH DAVIS GO BEHIND “THE GRANDSTAND! WHAT HAP-' PENED ?

ALITTLE MATTER TO biscugs! /i

ABBIE AN' SLATS

1S CRASH MAKING

«Be T~ME. ~A CAWYER - QUICK 7=

BEFORE NOTICES THAT HES D-D~

rp , I DON'T SEE TRYING MIGHTY HARD TO! HED § LIKE TO GET §

TEAM AGAIN, AND HELL STOP [*

HE FIGURES "© PLAY ! YOU'RE FIRST STRING QUARTERBACK, AND HE CAN'T PLAY UNLES YOURE TAKEN |ME TAKEN

WELL , HE ENTER TAINS IDEAS ABOUT HAVING

How BUT FRECK JUST TOOK HIM OFF “THE ENTERTAINMENT COMMITTEE !

"QATTERED by Navy's powe

pile of players emerged “Dizzy”

an excited Navy substitute jum

immediately declared the toue Lakes kicked goal, winning 7-6.

ing Station was pushed back to its own goal line in that famous game of 1918. With only a yard to go, Navy's Bill Ingram, later to be Midshipman coach, smashed through center and fumbled! From the

hands as he dashed toward Navy's goal, 100 vards away. Not a man stood between him and a touchdown. Suddenly, as he reached midfield,

and brought Eileson down with a flving tackle. Navy's coach, Gil Dobie,

—By Blosset

NED IN FOOTBALL!

rful attack, Great Lakes Naval Traine

Eileson, Great Lakes back, the ball in his

ped from the bench, ran onto the field

hdown should be allowed, and Great ’

—By Raeburn Van Buren

JUDGE PHEEBLE RECEIVES A CALLER-

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.

ard followed, dumped a heavy load party

8 nearby phone booth. He called

Q—Do cows often produce multiple offspring at a single birth? A—The American Genetic Association in Washington says that quadruple calves occur in one birth in the ratio of one in every halfmillion. There have been a few cases of quintuplets, and there is one recent instance on record of six calves being born to a cow owned by Peter Poth of Clarksburg, W. Va.

Q—Is Irish whisky made in the United States? A—Tt is a distinctive product of Ireland, manufactured either in the Irish Free State or in Northern Ireland, in compliance with the laws of those territories regulating the manufacture of Irish whisky for consumption. It contains no distilled spirits less than three years old and is chiefly made from barley.

Q—Who was awarded the Harmon Trophy for 1935 for “the world’s outstanding aviator?” A—Capt. Edwin C. Musick received it for his pioneering work as pilot of the Pan-American Airways clipper ships in the trans-Pacific service. He was also designated as the outstanding flier of the United States for the year.

Q—Did the Ritz Brothers play the roles of the three Negro tap dancers in the motion picture, “You Can't Have Everything?” A—The dancers, Tip, Tap and Toe, were not the Ritz Brothers in disguise.

number and spoke exultantly to his

“It worked, Jim,” Celia might have heard, had she lingered in the musty old room. “I spotted her easy from your description. She fell for it like a ton of bricks. I sure got you fixed up, you old conniver. Now I think the least you might do for your pal is to name the first one after the best photographer in town.”

(THE END.) The characters In this story are fictitious.

L BECAUSE YOUR BANK HAS BEEN SO KIND ABOUT TH MORTGAGE /

IT IS A LOVELY PLACE, JASPER | HM-M-YES- «= AND I'VE BEEN ABLE TO ,// NOW THAT ¢

BIT OVERDUE =-ISN'T IT, SOLOMON?

IT, 1 DO HOLD QUITE A LARGE MORTGAGE ON THIS PLACE =-AND QUITE A

OF COU

YOUR HEALTH

By Dr. Morris Fishbein American Medical Journal Editor Ir addition to the ringworm that occurs on the beard or the scalp, various fungus infections may occur elsewhere on the body, particularly the feet, the scalp and the groins. Nowadays we know that there

are various types of ringworm which the specialist in diseases of the skin classifies after he has studied them under the microscope. It is customary to scrape a small portion of the infected material off the skin and to put it on a glass slide, sometimes adding various solutions and heating slightly, Then when the slide is viewed through the microscope, the fungi which cause the disturbance are seen.

ho & NE of the ordinary forms of ringworm appears on the skin as a ring-like infection. Doctors call it tinea circinata because of its circular appearance.

Children are more commonly affected by this condition than are grown people, but it may affect anyone. Usually the uncovered parts of the body are involved— that is, the face, neck and hands —but the ringworm will also be found running down the chest and on the soles of the feet.

HE infection usually begins as a red flat spot which then spreads outward and may get to be as big as an inch or more. Soon it begins to scale away at the points where it is healed. Occasionally there may be little pimples or blisters at the margins of the inflammation and sometimes two spots will join together to make one large one. The spots itch and burn but not nearly as severely as in other conditions. After a few weeks with proper treatment they will heal. Fortunately, the infection is not so serious that it will do a great deal of harm. It is important, however, to recognize the nature of the condition promptly so that the doctor may apply the necessary antiseptics that will destroy the fungi and stop the growth.

SO THEY SAY

I admit now that I used all the sob technique that I learned during my years on the stage in writing letters of appeal, but I would rather not talk until Mr, Dahl is acrofs the border.—Mrs, |

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OF COLE JASPER; WHAT | DID COME TO E -_— NATURALLY==

THATS FINE. AHEM/

TALK ABOUT-WAS THE (7 HENWOOD CASE/ THAT COMES UP IN YOUR COURT TOMORROW, SOLOMON!

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“4 United Feature Syndicate, Inc. vox" SAN aba why Aw. On

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“and remember! Your boy friend must stop taking away the morning paper when he

I was plenty scared when I got

UP i. Ue fog and couldn't tell | pean) peoples,

says good night!”

H. E. Dah), wife of American aviator | Al Mingalone, news cameraman, given his freedom as a result of Mrs, after his flight into the stratosphere

Dahl's appeal to General Franco.

with balloons.

‘As to the feelings of the (EuroI was not able to find

I was going up or down.— | out. I was a. tourist and.

every consideration. — Dr. C. B, Emerson, Cleveland, after touring Germany and Italy.

The Constitution is a layman's document, not a lawyer's coatract. Roosevelt.