Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 4 December 1937 — Page 14

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OREN ARNOLD, Copyright 1937, NEA Service, Inc. wr’

CAST OF CHARACTERS ROBERT BARRY—hero, explorer, MELISSA LANE — heroine, Barry's Partner. HONEY BEE GIRL—Indian; of Barry's party. HADES JONES—pioneer; Barry’s party.

member

member of

Yesterday: Hades calls Holliman's game. At the same time the Indian girl denies knowledge of Bob and Melissa’s whereabouts. Concern for them how mounts.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN OB and Mary Melissa had completely lost not only their sense of direction, but any sense of time. The absolute darkness in which they were living made sane, normal thinking almost impossible.

“I would say we've been here any- |

where from 12 to 24 hours,” Bob guessed. “But it might just seem

that long, and really be less.”

They dared not separate more

jrieiore we lose normal control | entirely!” he whispered it fierce(ly. “Yes, Bob?” “I love you, Mary Melissa, I have {always loved you, I guess.” “Kiss me again, please. I have loved you—longer than always!” He held her, patted her. “We'll stick it out as long as hu{manly possible, sweetheart. I am [not afraid to die. I—am sorry, for vou. But the end comes somewhere, somehow, no matter wnat we do in

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now. But I wish I might have loved vou longer.” “It’s—all rfght,” she whispered. “I am not afraid. I have you.” Hunger. And bodily weakness. And the intense thirst, the choking, knotting of throat muscles. Ringing in the ears. Mirages of sound and sight, even the subterranean darkness. Hysteria was bound to be near, they felt.

(To Be Continued)

Daily Short Story

THE PRIZE—By Marcia Daughtrey

|

than a few feet, lest they be lost |

from each other.

And they dared |

not move save by crawling and feel- }

ing with their hands, and be Killed. “It grandchildren,” suggested ‘Lissa, trying to be brave. “Correct,” agreed Bob. added the “if” most in their minds.

Neither

# = MN

lest they fall |

{

be something to tell our | j “A real adventure.” |

which was upper- |

HERE had been no more Kisses, |

after the first one. It was supremely had asked it in a spirit more of comradeship than of love, doing the best he could to boost her spirits. It had been a lingering Kiss. it had been warmly returned. He

had wanted to Kiss her again and |

again—to hold her fiercely and pour out the declaration of love which had suddenly enveloped him. But he must be fair. He couldnt take advantage of the girl under stress of circumstances like this. The thought made him a bit more formal for a half hour or so, but their mutual danger soon enveloped them. Then he tried singing. “Sailing, sailing, Over the bounding waves—" His big baritone filled the unseen auditorium. The novelty of it caused them both to laugh, which was well.

Lissa clapped her hands, entered |

into the spirit of it. “Can you do imitations also, Mr. Ginsberg?” she teased. “No, but have you heard my tap dancing?” = o =

E beat out a drum rhythm with |

And |

delicious to Bob, but he |

!

ry | Swan AX “Come down, Dope,” he yelled.

ARNEY BARTON repeated the tricky lines to himself several

times: “Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers. Little we see in nature that is ours ...”

hands and added: “We need a good shortstop, Barney, and I think you could fill the bill.” Barney gritted his teeth. No, he had to win that prize. “I've got work to do,” he shouted back. Forlornly, he returned to his desk and set himself doggedly at digesting the verses. EJ ” = ATURDAY after Saturday it was the same. The prize, the prize. He thought of nothing else. Going to school he repeated the arduous lines. When, for a few months, a word or a phrase set its heels and refused to march in memory’s parade, Barney mentally lashed himself until his forehead dripped and

a mustache of frenzied dew oozed from his upper lip. He had to win

| that prize.

The crucial day finally arrived.

|

His 10-year-old mind flitted out |

the window and cavorted, lazy as a dragon fly, across lawns and among trees. For an hour on this spring Saturday afternoon he had been sit-

two rocks on a giant stalag- | ting in his room studying the poem

mite near them. “I'm really Bill Robinson traveling incognito, you know. See how dark I am!” He kept up the silliness, because {t diverted them both. It was nevertheless fantastic, there in the cavern. Somehow they couldn't force the blackness out of their consciousness, even by play. Bob was talking and singing very loud. When they were both weary, he suggested that they try to sleep. They lay prone, touching each other for consolation, and were stM¥l for perhaps two or three hours. And although neither actually slept, strength was restored. “Do you suppose it’s—tomorrow?” Missa asked, when they were aroused again. " «probably. Maybe day after. Here, I am rationing the chocolate bar. Feel my hand. Just a bit, but it'll lessen the gnawing.” The “gnawing” was rather acute, rightly enough. Moreover, Mary Melissa and Bob had the extreme added suffering of thirst. They didn’t mention it, but each found it difficult even to swallow the bite of chocolate candy. = = 4

“x 7OO-HOO!” Bob shouted, just to keep up spirits. It hurt his throat some, but he thought it justified. Anything now seemed better than just sitting, or eternally crawling and feeling to no avail. “Echo! Echo!” he called, because he had heard one. A faint repeat of it shot back at him. “That means we're in a pretty big room, with some sort of flat wall opposite,” he told ’Lissa. They tried to crawl toward it, but they came repeatedly to the drop-off —the ledge over which the | lantern had fallen. Or perhaps another like it, they couldn't be sure.

= »

CE threw some rocks. Many of them hit and bounded, hit and hit again, rolled and were quiet. It must be a long way down, somewhere, the boy and girl agreed. “HEY DOWN THERE, ECHO!” Bob yelled. They listened, but the phrases were too long. Only a jumble of noise reverberated. They sat silent, in increasing if unspoken despair, holding hands again. A second or so passed. Then—— “Hey! Hey!” A faint sound, an exclamation, came out of the darkness! Bob felt ’'Lissa become tense, knew she had heard it too. His own heart was pounding. “Lissa!” he barely whispered it. Then—"HEY! HELP!” He yelled at the top of his lungs. It came back, but it was too long for an echo: “eh-eh-eh!”

2

2

T was unnatural, weird. Bob strained to determine the direction. “Pray God it's coming from above!” he said, squeezing ’Lissa’s arm. “It may be help from up there, just echoing and seeming to come from below us!” It might have been but—it wasn’t. “No! NO-no! NO-0-O!” The last was almost a scream, as Mary Melissa spoke it. “No, Bob! It's not help! We're—crazy or something. I saw a light flash—away below—in imagination I guess. Oh!” She was sobbing, and he held her close. He shut his own eyes, tightening his muscles trying to regain control. ‘He knew their trouble. He had heard of hallucinations that bedevil people facing slow death from hunger and thirst. Thirst takes rapid toll in the arid West country. Bob's own tongue felt very thick, and his legs were weak. How much more ‘Lissa must be suffering, he knew.

=

" TNASHAMEDLY, then he kissed her, and she kissed him back.

“I want you to know something | ton

and memorizing painful bites,

The words, in his frank opinion, were a little nuts—but all poetry was. Excepting the two line ticklers a guy scribbled in his reader to the effect that “If this book should

it in deliberate,

chance to roam, kick its pants and |

send it home.” That made sense. That got you somewhere.

AINTLY in the distance he could | hear the shouts of Mugsy Mc- |

Murtry, Squidge Williams and the gang playing baseball on the corner lot. Barney gritted his teeth and brought his errant vision back to the dull page spread out before him. Nothing on earth could have induced him to spend Saturday afternoon in his room except the swell prize promised the boy who, in the opinion of old Mr. J. T. C. Gardens, spoke the best piece on the last day of school. “A very beautiful prize,” Miss Wolkes had said. “It might be a Kketcher’s mit,” ruminated Barney. And acourse, it might be a pitcher's glove, or a fishing pole, wrapped in silk and shellacked like Mugsy’s.

HEN the announcement of the forthcoming prize had been made Barney went directly to Miss Wolkes, the home-room teacher, and put his case concisely. “I got to win that prize, Miss Wolkes. I just got to. I figure you know more what an old gentleman like Mr. Gardens would like, so will you please pick out my poem?” “Surely, Bernard,” Miss Wolkes agreed, smiling. The expression was both wry and helpless; she

| knew what was coming next but | there was nothing she

could do about it, “Mr. Gardens,” she explained, taking a book from her desk, “is a nature lover. I think he would enjoy th¥s work.” She handed the volume to Barney, and he read—with consterrnation sufficient to cause the swallowing of his gum—‘“Thanatopsis.”

“Y'LL learn it,” nodded Barney with the same grim courage that had wrested a whistling admiration from the doctor who had set both Barney's arms many months ago. The kids didn't know about his arms. The splints had been taken off before Barney came to Frenville, but he had to be careful. The doctor said so. Barney didn’t tell the kids because they would have thought he was cry-babying if he had tried to explain how the car rolled over down the hill, glass flying, someone screaming and the awful dark closing in. = = =

HEY knew—f{rom overheard conversations—that “poor little Bernard” was an orphan and had come to live with Aunt Margaret. This only increased the juvenile suspicion that Barney was a jelly bean. “I'll show em,” muttered Barney, thrusting out his lower lip. “I'll win this swell prize and by that time my arms will be well enough to knock a flock of balls clear out of the lot. Maybe the prize might even be a good bat. Gosh.” He read over the next two lines and, chewing them between his teeth, walked over to the window. He could watch the kids from here. Mr. Clenton was refereeing as he did nearly every Saturday afternoon, after the bank was closed. It was too bad Mr. Clenton didn’t have any boys of his own, Barney thought fleetingly; he would make such a superswell dad. = ” 2

Myc M'MURTRY caught sight of Barney at the window. “Come on down, dope,” he yelled. Mr. Clenton beckoned. When Barney shook his head, Mr. Clenmegaphoned his mouth with his

| | Old Mr. Gardens sat on the plat- | form beside Miss Wolkes. To Bar- | ney his face seemed to have been | folded in many places, and his head | nodded with the mildly humorous | persistence of a Christmas clown.

& a | Bier was the last speaker on the program. His ringing voice | delivered “Thanatopsis” with such | fervor as had seldom been em- | ployed in a classroom. Never once

{did he falter. With the assurance | that accompanies a consciously good performance he dared insert a few sweeping gestures. An awed silence stified the whispers of the usually snickering children. After the applause had died, Mr. Gardens trotted over and rested his hand on Barney's head. “My lad,” he quavered, “the prize is yours. And a very appropriate one it is. This beautiful rosebush is my gift to you for your rendition of a beautiful poem.” In the stunned silence Barney noticed the gang exchanging horrorstricken glances. Well, he'd show them he was a good sport, anyway. He swallowed twice and summoned his voice: “Thank you, Mr. Gardens. I want to present this pretty rosebush to the school, to be planted wherever you think it would be nice. And we'll call it Mr. Gardens’ rose —forever.” Mr. Clenton walked home with Barney. “I've got kind of a cold,” admitted Barney, sniffing carefully. “Always in spring I get a cold.” 2 » =

" E, too,” agreed Mr. Clenton. “By the way, I picked up a swell bargain in a catcher’s mitt, a bat and a ball the other day. Matter of fact, I bought them purposefully for the boy who won Mr. Gardens’ award.” “How do you mean?” demanded Barney, stopping in his tracks at this glorious news and forgetting the tear streaks down his cheeks. “Don’t tell the gang and I'll tell you a secret,” confided Mr. Clenton. “Quite a few years ago I won a prize from Mr. Gardens. That year it was a half-dozen pomegranates in a wicker basket. It took me ali sum-

mer and seven fights to live it down.”

THE END (Copyright, 1937)

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—Please give some information about the Ritz Brothers.

A—Their real names are Al, Harry and Jimmy Joachim. They were born in Newark, N. J, Al on Aug. 27, 1903; Harry on May 22, 1908, and Jim on Oct. 5, 1905. Their father was a hatter who presently moved to Brooklyn. Al became an extra at the old Astoria Studios, where the casting director did not like the name Joachim. With his brothers, he launched a collegiate vaudeville act in 1925, which soon landed him in Earl Carroll's “Vanities.” They were signed by Darryl Zanuck for their first picture when the producer saw them perform in a night club. “One in a Million” followed; then “On the Avenue,” “You Can't Have Everything” and ‘Life Begins in College.” ‘There is another brother, George, and a sister, Gertrude. Al is the only one married.

Q—Who designed the medal presented to members of the Byrd Ant=arctic Expedition? A—The sculptor, Heinz Warneke. On one side it bears the inscription: “Byrd Antarctic Expedition, 193335,” and a portrait of the explorer, in polar garb, and a . On the re-

verse are the words:

life. If this is ours, I can die happy.

L133? BY NEA SEFVICE, ING

LI'L ABNER

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES OUR WAY

WHY, THAT POLECAT? HE LEFT THAT ON THERE SO TH' BOSS COULD SEE IT,

OH , SUCH A RAT! WOULDN'T EVEN WIPE IT OFF <4 WAITED FER TH' BULL TO COME BY.

KIN AH HAVE. A FEW = MAKE IT FOUR HO POK CHOPS, MAMMY."-AN’ A PITCHER O" WARM MILK. THET'L! MAKE ME SLEEPY AN’ A PO SEs RE LA GOES FISHIN ~

IF YOU'D WAITED TILL TH' BOSS HAD GONE BY, TO HIT HIM WITH THAT TOMATO , HE'D OF HAD TO LEAVE IT ON MAYBE TILL TOMORROW, AND HAVE BEEN A WORSE RAT.

By Williams

JRWILLIAMS, 2-4

nO ABNER?

SATURDAY, DEC. 4, 1937 FLAPPER FANNY

By Sylvia

“Can you come over for dinner, Chuck? It’s going to be

very informal—just the family and Irish stew.”

y7r

—By Al Capp

IGHT” AnD THAT INVESTMENT IS NOW RETURNING

MILLIONS

TO You” Si : INT

THE COURTS HAVE DECLARED YOUR TITLE TO MANHA ISLAND LEGAL. ”- YOU CAN TAKE POSSESSION AT F_\WAY, BOY E ONE OF THE ST YOUNG MEN HE WORLD”

{ SOS THET'S) SHE WHY DAISY / MUSTA MAE IS T KNOWED i A-MARRYIN’) O COURSE3 WIF HIM'- | CRAFTY fFO' HIS. QO Lit. MONEY J THING

TTA

(re NONE OF MY BUSI-

NESS, REALLY, WHAT YOU DO ABOUT FIRING OR HIRING A COACH...» BUT ID LIKE You HEAR MY STORY

IVE ALWAYS BEEN LED © BELIEVE: “THAT WINNING FOOTBALL GAMES ISN'T AS IMPORTANT AS PLAYING THE GAME FAIRLY ! OR ISN'T “THAT THE RULE HERE AT

THEN ISN'T IT YOUR COACH'S JOB TO SEE, FIRST, THAT HIS BOYS ARE GNVEN THE RIGHT

SLANT ON THINGS, T© FIT THEM FOR THE GAME OF

HIS YOUNG PLAYERS !

AROCUND TRYING TO FIGURE

WAYS OF BREAKING A SWELL MOLD 2

—By Raeburn Van Buren

YOU DIDN'T ACTUALLY WANT

T'SEE ME, DID YOU, JASPER POP’ COME MUST'VE BEEN SOME MISTAKE | RIGHT IN-

THERE AIN'T MANY MEN IN CRABTREE CORNERS WITH YOUR INTELLIGENCE, POP--MEN WITH WHOM | CAN DISCUSS THE FINER THINGS OF LIFE -- LIKE, FOR INSTANCE - THE SUPERIOR: ITY OF - CHAMPAGNE, VINTAGE 1899 OVER CHAMPAGNE, VINTAGE 1900.

~~ opr. 1937 b; —

By Lichty

x ir SITTERS OME ¥

Cf A

“I've got to economize, since our world cruise cost Henry so much—so I'll have the 60c instead of 75¢ luncheon.”

the officers and men of the second Byrd Antarctic Expedition to express the very high admiration which the Congress and the American people hold for their heroic and

undaunted accomplishments for science, unequaled in the history of po-.

lar expedition.” With these words also appear an airplane, a team of dogs and a sled, the radio station of Little America, and the sailing vessel that took Admiral Byrd and his colleagues to the Antarctic. Fif-ty-seven persons were authorized to receive them.

Q—How many banks were Ssuspended in the United States in 1937?

A—During the period from Jan. 1 to Aug. 31, 1937, 37 banks were suspended. Of these, two were National banks. None of the remaining 35 were members of the Federal Reserve System. Deposits in the suspended banks amounted to $9,771,000.

YOUR HEALTH

By Dr. Morris Fishbein

American Medical Journal Editor I ene are many methods for destroying or concealing excess hair. One of the most commonly recommended methods is the use of the electric needle. Here, however, patience is required as well as endurance, The pain is usually slight. In fact, the doctor is likely to be exhausted long before the patient is tired. In this process, the needle carrying the current is inserted into the hair follicle and a weak electric current is turned on for a brief time. This work requires experience

before it can be done properly. Seldom is it possible to remove more than 10 to 15 hairs in a single sit-

ting. With from 15,000 to 19,000 hairs

RE) 1 — Co] y United Feature Syndicate, Inc.

| stood how removal of hairs one by |

WELL-T’TELL

Mind Manners

Test your knowledge of correct social usage by answering the following questions, then checking against the authoritative answers below: 1. Is it permissible to write a note on a Christmas card? 2. Should a letter ever be signed “Hastily yours?” 3. When cards are bought and the rames of a husband and wife signed, whose name is written first? 4. If a child's name is also signed, in what order are the names written? 5. Should “yours” follow such closes as “Sincerely” and “Lovingly”?

What would you do if— You are sending a Christmas card to a friend who has never met your husband— A. Sign it with both your names? B. Sign your first? C. Sign “Alice Brown Jones?”

a

own name

» Answers

1. Not only permissible, but more in the spirit of Christmas. 2. No. 3. Either way. Usually the one doing the writing signs his name last. 4. Husband, wife, child. 5. That is the preferred form —though some people think it makes the closing more formal.

Best “What Would You Do” solution—(A), though under some circumstances you might prefer (C).

2

in a beard, and anywhere from 700 to 1200 on an upper lip, it is under- |

one is a long, difficult process.

1-WOULDNT KNOW WHICH'D BE (SMACK!)

NEVER HAD ANY CHAMPAGNE - ~~

IS CURIOUS WORL

ar

ELECTRIC BARBED WIRE FENCES ARE BEING USED BY MANY FARMERS COR. TEMPORARY PASTURES.

COPR. 1337 BY NEA SERVICE, INC.

nevertheless, most effective.

15 miles of fence. .

kick?

times attempted—the wax being applied and after it has hardened, pulled off—the hair coming with it. This does not permanently remove

” ” ” IMPLY because of this fact,| LJ various other methods have been | attempted. For a while the use of | the X-ray was exploited for this | purpose, but now most experts do | not advise the use of the X-ray—be-

cause of possible harm to the tissues. The use of a stif wax is some-

hair although occasionally very fine hair may be permanently removed

ky this method. Hair may also be rubbed off with pumice stone and it may be removed by depilatories which dissolve the hair. None of these, however, attack the hair roots. Sometimes the depilatories are poisonous. Most modern metkod is the use

THIS 1S THE 1899 - THAT'S THE 1900! YOU TASTE ‘EM BOTH-AND TELL ME, FRANKLY, WHICH YOU CONSIDER BETTER/ (smACK!)

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we

COLOR. NOT TO BE FOUND AMONG CARNATIONS,

I'D BE GLAD JO, JASPER=-

ERY GLAD TO//

Wav?

TERE J

By William Ferauson

~

iN NEW MEXICO,

WHO CAN NEMHER READ NOR. WRITE

§

IS THE ONLY

MIDDLE-WESTERN farmers have turned to electricity in marking off temporary pasture for their live stock. i used, and the animal receives only a harmless shock, the fence, is A single battery will furnish current for

Although a low power is

* *

NEXT—Which can be made more quickly, a place kick or a drop

of the safety razor, which in most instances produces a successful re=sult each time if properly employed. Before any one attempts any radical method for the removal of large amounts of hair, a physician should certainly be consulted as to the possible dangers to the skin from repeated irritation. Such irritation is particularly dangerous

when it involves pigmented areas or moles.