Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 31 January 1938 — Page 14

PAGE 14

chest Giri in the World!

BY ADELAIDE HUMPHRIES

CAST OF CHARACTERS CONSTANCE CORBY-—heroine; richest girl in the werld. BRET HARDESTY-hero; builder. RODNEY BRANDON-—Connie’s fiance. KATIE BLYN-—Connie’s ‘‘double.”

bridge

Yesterday: Bret turns the tables on Connie and leaves so she may win her divorce uncontested.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE HEN Conine reached the pier where “The Constance,” her million-dollar yacht, was docked, ready for a midnight sailing, she thougkt at first that Rodney was not yet there. There was no one in sight, no sound except the swish of waves lapping against the sides of the big white boat, whose lights shimmered in myriad reflections upon the dark water. Then as she started up the plank, Rodney stepped from the shadows. . “My .dear—you did come! I was afraid you wouldn't. I couldn't believe it, really. I can’t believe it now.” He caught her arm, held her off, as though he would feast his eager eyes upon the reality of her presence. “I've been waiting a long while,” he said. “Though I knew vou had said midnight. I've been waiting all my life for this moment, Connie dearest.”

“I'm sorry,” she said, in a voice that sounded weary and tired, “to have kept you waiting, Rodney. I'm sorry for what I have come to tell you. Rodney, dear—I want to thank you for trying to be of some use to me, for being such an understanding friend, for waiting so terribly long. . . . But, Rodney, I came to tell you: I'm not going.”

“Not going!” He dropped her arm, stood staring at her. He was sO taken back that he looked a bit foolish. Here they were, just the two of them, at midnight, as they had planned, half way up the gangplank to the yacht that was to take them away together—and Connie stood there telling him she was not going. “No. I'm not going.” She waited a moment. “We could go in and talk. But I haven't much time to spare. I'm going away, but not with you, Rodney.” “I don’t believe I quite understand you.” He drew himself up; spoke stiffly. “I don't expect you to. But I came to try to help you to understand. I didn’t want to run away from you again, Rodney. I'm never going to run from anything again. I've found that isn’t the way to escape, the way to find freedom—or happiness.” “I still don’t understand you,” Rodney said. “Only this afternoon you asked me to meet you here. You made all the plans. You said you were going to divorce Bret. Going to marry me, afterward.”

» " 2

“y KNOW,” Connie said. She laid a hand on his sleeve; her eyes were full of a sort of pity, her smile sweet and sorrowful. “I don’t blame you, Rodney, for taking it this way. But at least, as I said, I didn’t run away again. You see I'm not going to divorce Bret. That wouldn't do any good. I would still be married to him. He would still be my husband. Nothing could change that, not even if I were married to you.” “You are talking like somebody's grandmother,” Rodney said shortly. Then: “I'm sorry, Connie.” He never forgot his good manners. “But I told you today you couldn't do this to me a secrnd time—practically jiit me at ‘uae altar! You know I'd marry yca, take care of you, spend the rzst of my life trying to make you happy.” “I'm sur you would,” she said. “But as I jusv wid you, I'd still be married to Bret. I'm going to be married to him always. Even if I never saw him again, even if he does hate me now, won't let me try once more, this time to work at our marriage. No matter what happens, Rodney dear, Bret and I are husband and wife; we belong together.” “You never belonged together. It was all a mistake. He'll always be different. Not of your world. Or you of his... .” “Then we’ll have to make still another one,” Connie said. ‘You see, Rodney, there’s something else—the strongest thing in the world, bigger than any of us, than all the money, our foolish impulses and desires, than logic of reason. It's love, Rod-

ey. “You think you love Bret, then?” “I know I love him. Oh, I was foolish enough for a little while to pretend that I didn’t. I'm a great pretender, didn’t you know that, Rodney?” Her laugh rang out on the still night air, rippling, edged with ah acid bitterness. “I pretend at whatever amuses me for ths moment. At being miserable, or gay— or somebody else—or even at being just what I truly am. I'm spoiled and pampered and young and foolish. I've always had everything, except the one thing I wanted, that I could not buy with my millions. But now, Rodney, I've grown up, at last. Maybe too late. I'm not sure. For the thing I want, that is. Maybe too late to try again. To stop pretending for all time.

- ND 50,” she finished, and now she held out her hand to him, “this is goodby, Rodney. I am sorry I could not love you. Sorry to have to hurt you a second time. I shall think of you as my very good friend, always.” “You're going after Bret,” Rodney said. It was not a question. He accepted her hand, held it between his own, let it go, reluctantly. “Yes. If I can find him. If hell give me another chance.” “He will. No man could refuse you. You're very beautiful, and desirable, Connie. And—no mutter what you think, what you've said about yourself—you're very brave, too.” “Thank you, Rodney dear.” There were tears shining in her eyes, a lump in her throat. “I'm not really. Though I'll try to be. Because you thought it of me. Goodby again, my dear. I must hurry. Will you explain to Captain Stevens? And— will you say a little prayer for me, Rodney ?—1I feel I shall need it.” He did not answer, except with his eyes, promising her anything within his power to give her. He stood, looking after her, as she turned, almost running, to go down the gangplank again, to the car that she had kept waiting. Before she got in, she turned once more and waved at him. A gallant little up-flung movement. Her head thrown back in that way he knew

so well. Then she was gone. He knew he

she would not come running back to

“ Jersey. The airport,” Connie said to the chauffeur. «Make it as quickly as you can, without getting arrested for speeding, or running anyone down.” On her way to the ‘pier she had stopped at a drug store and phoned Winton, her pilot, to have her plane, “The Skyrocket,” a 450-horse power engine, ready to take off. She would pilot herself. She knew she could trust Winton to keep her departure secret. This was not another mad impulse. It was the result of those long hours since Bret had walked out of the drawing room of the brownstone mansion; hours through which Connie had lived what might have been an eternity. For during them, through her tears and remorse, her pride and her shame, she had, as she had told Rodney, grown up. The myth that had been Constance Corby was dead. This girl, white-faced, small hands clenched tightly, heart beating hard,

yet with a single steady purpose, was another person. Not old Katie Blyn, not the heiress of all those millions. She was just herself, a woman, without pretense, going after the man she loved, the man whose wife she was and always would be, forever and ever. Whether she would find him or not, whether she would have found him too late, that was still, as she had said, unanswered. She did not believe that Bret loved her any more. If he had loved her he could not have walked out of the room, out of her life. He could not have relinquished all that he held to be right, allowing her to win. An empty victory. For with it she had lost all that counted in the world, the one person without whom she could not go on living. Would Bret give her another chance? Would he forgive, and understand, a second time? Would love be big enough for this?

(To Be Continued) (All events, names and characters In this story are wholly fictitious.)

Daily Short Story

CHOCOLATE CUE—By Rose F. Rossa

OARDING a Milwaukee-down-town car, Maxie Pocius sullenly stuffed his transfer into a shabby pocket, where it crumpled beside the automatic and a small bag of chocolate creams that were beginning to melt. He spied an empty seat, beat a lady to it, sat down. It was a suffocatingly hot day, typical of midsummer in Chicago, with the heat waves dancing crazily

on the sidewalks and making one feel sick and faint. Wiping the perspiration away | with a grimy handkerchief, Maxie thought, incongruently, of cool, rippling waters and excursion boats. He should be on one of those boats, tomorrow, sailing away on his honeymoon with Gerda. He should be driving to meet her in his own car this very minute, too, instead of bumping and rattling along in a streetcar.

& ” ”

EORGE PAVEK had taken everything away from him, hadn’t he? Squeezed him out of his share of the candy business, stolen his recipes for the chocolate creams that were piling up a young fortune so rapidly, taking his girl from under his very nose. Marrying her tomorrow. Taking her on a boat cruise for a honeymoon. While he sweltered and sweated away in the heat, with no money, job, or even a decent place to call home. A bum’s life was good enough for him. Nobody cared.

Pavek would be in his kitchen at this time of day, stirring up a mess of chocolate creams to last until he returned from his honeymoon. There would be no one else in the store. The extra clerk wouldn't be there yet. Ten in the morning was a dull time in the candy business. Yes, but a very good time for other business. Reassuringly Maxie’s fingers curled about the automatic, as he fished another cream out of the bag and popped it into his mouth. “Maxie!” ” o ” AVEK whirled from the table where he was dipping a batch of creams in chocolate, “Wait!” Maxie laughed to see Pavek cringing before him, his eyes popping with fear, his big hands trembling, spattering chocolate all over his white apron.

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 to discuss the cost of food while eating? 2. Should one twist his feet around the rungs of his chair? 3. When cutting meat, is it correct to have the end of the knife handle so that it can be seen? 4. Where does one leave his knife and fork when he has finished eating? 5. May one hold food on his fork while talking? What would you do if— While you are being entertained at dinner you drop a fork on the floor; your hostess has not noticed your predicament—

(A) Stop eating and sit up quickly? (B) Quietly say to your hostess, “May 1 have a fork, please? I'm sorry, I dropped mine”? (C) Rescue the fork you dropped?

”

Answers 1. No. 2. No. 3. No. It rests in palm of hand. 4. Parallel in center of plate. 5. No.

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

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‘Don’t Be Scared, Ma’am’

Without a single word, still smiling, Maxie pulled the trigger. Pavek crumpled to the floor, a lifeless heap, deep red adding its stains to chocolate. Going over to the sacked trays of creams, drying under a fan, Maxie reached out for one. Had Pavek been making them as good as his own recipe called for, or was he using substitutes to get rich so quickly.

Ugh! Too soft! Maxie’s thumb

| sank into the chocolate. Carefully

wiping his hands on his handkerchief, he sauntered from the store. Boarding the car at Madison and Dearborn, elbowing his way through the crowd of strap-hangers, Maxie sandwiched himself into a side seat between a burly Italian and a limi adne, gray-haired little old ady.

o on o UDDENLY the little old lady gave a horrified squeal, crushing her handkerchief to her trembling lips to silence further outburst. Maxie blanched, certain the withered old fingers had been in his pocket.

“What's the matter here?” The Italian galvanized into action, towered menacingly over Maxie. “I didn’t do nuthin’! She’s batty!” Maxie defended himself. Fumbling nervously with her purse, the little old lady arose, tried to leave the car, : “Just a minute, lady!” The Italian flashed his badge of authority. “Too many of these purse snatchers running around loose! Don’t be scared, ma'am,” he hastened to reassure her. “It's only doin’ your duty, perferrin’ charges.” Riding to the station, Maxie, nervously biting his fingernails, hoped for the best, dreaded the worst. If only they wouldn't frisk him he might be able to talk himself out of the situation. “Well, if it ain’t little Daisy, the pickpocket!” the desk sergeant greeted their arrival at the station. “This the victim?” turning toware Maxie. Pickpocket! Maxie knew he'd felt her hand in his pocket. She must have felt the gun when she squealed. The gun! A cold sweat broke out all over Maxie as he waited for the next move. “You got nothing on me Sarg” the little old lady airily exonerated herself. “But this—this man here has a gun in his pocket!”

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AXIE trembled. “Got a license?” asked the officer, knowing full well that Maxie didn’t, taking the gun away from him, placing it on the desk, where it lay, pointing accusingly at him. “Say!” The sergeant bent to examine smears and smudges of chocolate on the handle. “There's a guy with a candy store, name of Pavek, been just bumped off. You woudin't know anything about that, would you?” a swallowed hard, said nothg. “The boys have found a good, deep thumb print in one of the chocolates at Pavek’s place. Yours, Maxie?” Apprehensively, grimly, Maxie looked down at his hands shaking so horribly. He'd wiped his hands. Chocolate under his right thumbnail! A dead giveaway, staining him with guilt. Damn those chocolate creams! THE END 1 : nis ory ave whey aetione oo

ONE PIECE

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THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES OUT OUR WAY

By Williams

YOURE FIRST ~TO BE SURE YOU GET IT! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO DILLY DALLIES AROUND, HOPING A FIRE OR TORNADO WILL HAPPEN SO YOU CAN GET OUT OF IT,

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COPR. 1938 BY NEA SERVICE. INC. TM. REG. U.S. PAT. OFF,

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WELL , KEEP PEOPLE OUTA HERE THEN! EVERYBODY WANTS SOME THIN' OUTA TH' KITCHEN WHEN IM IN TH TUB AND I HAFTA ALLUS BE HIDING BACK

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OF THE DOOR. _

BORN THIRTY YEARS TOO SOON

MONDAY, JAN. 81, 1998 FLAPPER FANNY

By Sylvia *

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“l still get the same answer you did, Chuck! I'll just hafta keep on workin’ til I get it right.”

—By Al Capp

SAID IT, , EXCEP

LEFT T'BUY SOME WIF ~ AN’ CGULPS)ITs A CO

LONG WAY T’ SFAT CHANCE”

: THAT'S ON ror | THRRORER ‘Ll 9

HAVE. TO CROSS THE

DAW E,FELLAYYO IS RIGHT! - IT Wikh BE SHE PER THET

HAIN'T GOT NO MONEY T'SAVE.,

KEEP YOUR EVE ON THAT BOTTLE FOLKS sm ————

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

El WELL, I HOPE YOURE fl SATISPIED , TAKING SB FOOD AWAY FROM I A BABY!

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ABBIE AN' SLATS

} THE PROPERTY WAS MINE, AND “THE LEASE “THE BABY HAD HAS EXPIRED ! “THAT

PRIOR TO “THE EXPIRATION i OF “THE LEASE WE CouLD HAVE RENEWED “THE LEASE FOR ANOTHER

BUT THERE WAS AN OPTION, MR. SCUTTLE | YOU DIDN'T

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WHETHER BABIES ~- GO HUNGRY OR NOT, BUSINESS 1S”

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rn MR. SCUTTLE , TELL ME ONE "THING ! WHO LIFTED THE STONE YOU CRAWLED

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~-By Raeburn Van Buren

-==T0 A RED-HEADED

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—On what date did President Wilson leave for France while he was in office? A—Desc. 4, March 5, 1919.

Q—Does moratorium mean cancellation of a debt? A—No; it means either permissive or legal delay in meeting an ligation.

Q—Which President issued the first proclamation for Thanksgiving on the last Thursday in November? A—Abraham Lincoln in 1864 issued the first Presidential proclamation fixing Thanksgiving as a national holiday on the fourth or last Thursday in November.

Q—What was the deficit of the Federal Government in the year ending June 30, 1937, compared with the 1936 fiscal year? A—The net deficit for the 1937 fiscal year was $2,707,000,000, compared with $4,361,000,000 in 1936.

Q—Can pistons be removed from the bottom of the cylinders of a Model A Ford engine? A—No; the crankshaft is in the way. ’ Q—I understand that one of the major operations of the CCC has been planting trees. How many trees have they planted? A—420,000,000.

Q—What is the title of the operatic selection which Charles Igor Gorin gang in the barber shop scene in the motion picture, “Broadway Melody of 1938?” A—“Toreador Song” from “Carmen.”

Q—What is the address of Mar-

1918, and again on

THE MANAGER OF MR. SMYTHE 'S BANK RECEIVES A CALL

) YES MR. SMYTHE ---ONE MILLION DOLLARS IN NEGOTIABLE SECURITIES

VERY SECURITIES wiLL BE WAITING

garet Mitchell, author of “Gone

With the Wind?” A—No. 4 17th St, N. E,, Atlanta, Ga.

Q—Who is Waldo Fleming? A—That is a pen-name used by Thames Ross Williamson, writer of juvenile fiction, as well as textbooks on economics and political science.

Q—Why was “In God We Trust” put on United States coins? A—It was placed on United States coins during the crisis of the Civil

War when a strong religious sentiment pervaded the country.

Q-—When was the birth rate of the United States first reported by the United States Bureau 'of the Census?

A—In 1915,

Q—What important decision was reached by the Council of Jerusalem in Bible times?

A—To include Gentiles as well as Jews in the new religion, Christianity, without enforcing the custom of circumcision. The account is given in Acts 15.

Q—How tall is Franklin D. Roosevelt Jr.,, and his brother, John?

A—Both are 6 feet 4 inches.

Q—Name all the officials of the Fy Government who are elected? A—The President and Vice President, the 435 members of the U. S. House of Representatives, and the 96 members of the U. S. Senate.

Q—How many taxicabs are in Chicago at the present time? A—The latest figure that we have about taxicabs in Chicago is for 1934. In that year there were 4108. For later figures, consult the Automobile License Division, Offices of the Secretary of State of Illinois, Springfield, Ill.

Q—How many Antietam commemorative coins were minted?

A—50,000.

Q—Who murdered “Mary Clay” in the motion picture, “They Won't Forget”? A—The story does not reveal the identity of the actual murderer.

CONFOUND

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YOUR HEALTH

By DR. MORRIS FISHBEIN American Medicar Journal Editor N June, 1822, on the Island of Mackinaw there was a fur trading station owned by Maj. John | H. Kinzie and Gordon S. Hubbard, | two men who later founded tlre | city of Chicago. | To that trading station came a boy named Alexis St. Martin. He began playing with a shotgun which accidentally exploded and tore away a portion of his side. The doctor of the fort, William Beaumont, came at once, examined the boy and said he would not live 36 hours. However, he sewed him up and kept him at rest. Gradually the boy recovered. For two years Dr. Beaumont treated him daily. By 1825 the wound had largely healed but it became possible now to look directly into the boy’s stomach. Dr. Beaumont tied a piece of meat to a piece of surgical thread and dropped it into the stomach. One-half hour later he withdrew the string and studied the effects of the process of digestion. He ulso studied the gastric juice which is utilized in digestion and also the effects of alcohol and other substances on the stomach. In 1833 Dr. Beaumont published a book which told what he had learned about digestion. These fundamental studies represent the beginning of our scientific knowledge of this subject.

INCE that time in many ways the studies of Beaumont have been continued. Other people have been found with similar deformities so that it is possible to study the stomach at first hand. The great Pavlov, Russian investigator, operated on animals to reproduce this condition and finally worked out an operation whereby a part of the stomach is brought to the exterior of the body and thus observed. By means of balloons introduced into the stomach and then inflated, it is possible to determine

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the motions and reactions of the stomach to various conditions. Among the most recent of discoveries are devices by which the physician can look directly at the

stomach wall and also some which make it possible to photograph the lining of the stomach in various conditions. In an earlier period we talked about indigestion, upset stomach, nervous stomach and used other inexact phrases. Today it has become possible to study these conditions scientifically and to know exactly what happens when there is

CIETY

LONG FILLER CIGARS

nervous indigestion or similar disturbance,

SO THEY SAY

It now appears that many aire planes in common use cannot be considered reasonably safe, even for experienced pilots.—Dr. Joseph 8S. Ames, Chairman of the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics,

Americans are deteriorating biologically, but our cheerfulness is such that we don’t realize we're about two jumps ahead of sheriff destruction.—Henry R. Luce, publisher.