Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 17 November 1941 — Page 19

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Serial Story—

FOR THE LOVE

OF PETE |

' By BURTON BENJAMIN

THE STORY: Star footballer Peto Laird isn’t the steady, modest boy he

was before State’s big opening game .

with California. It is after that game ‘that " Hollywood's glamorous Stephanie Stevens begs an introduction. and Pete stands up his college sweetheart, Anne Humphreys, and 500 slumni who are waiting to meet him. He attends Setphanie’s party instead, becomes infatuated with her, does not realize she has conspired with her mansger, Larry Winship, to usé him for his publicity value. University town seems unreal to him’ when he returns Ly plane, meets Anne’s train, makes a date with her. His anger over newspaper photographs showing him first with Stephanie, then witly Anne, is forgoiten when Stephanie calls from Chicago, asks him te meet "her there. He decides he will go and explain te Anne and his best friend and team eaptain, George Landers, when he geturns. | :

“Not, 'since yesterday morning. “We had a date last night—and guess what? He didn’t show up.” “Il say he didn’t,” Landers said dryly. “He wasn’t in the apartment last night either.” . “He—what?” Anne gave a start. “George, do you suppose anything's 99

" #Dunno,” he shook his head gravely. “But if he doesn’t turn out for practice today, Dinty’ll have the militia after him. He's worried about Northwestern Saturday.” Anne. dug her hands in the big pockets of her coat and frowned. “I'm worried, George,” she said. © %Call it woman’s intuition or any- . thing you like. I have a hunch sonny’s got ‘himself in another

“Hope not,” nders grunted. “pugan’ll take just so much and then . . . He shrugged his shoul‘ders. “I'll drop over to the house tonight and ley you know what's o

what. That'll the old :: hens something to cackle about,” he managed a half smile. “Good,” she nodded. “I'll be ready about 7:30.” { Pete Laird’s absence received official recognition that after . Dugan was collecting the first

for dummy scrimmage. Suddenly

he stopped and looked around. | “Hey, Phil,” he called to the manager, “Where's Laird?” | “Haven't seen him, Coach.” | “Has he an afternoon class?” asked Dugan. “Nope, he’s free after lunch.” Dugan walked over to Landers. “Where's Pete?” he asked. “He's been around long enough to know when practice starts.” “1 don’t know, Coach,” said Landers, kicking an imaginary hunk of dirt out of his cleats. “Maybe

- he’s got a class or something.”

“Yes,” Dugan looked at Landers quizzically, “yes, maybe he has.” He blew his whistle. “O. K—first team over here, seconds down there

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with Pat. Sheridan take the tail- asked.

| themselves. “All right” sn | Lester, “break ‘it up. We've got a Jot to do.’

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Landers above the bedlam. “I want to talk to you.” y It was one of those nights — beautifully crisp, a sky. full of stars and a pumpkin moon. Buoyant, Anne took a deep breath of the cool air. “Let's go down to the island, George,” she said almost gaily. “It’s a perfect night!” “Fine,” he grinned, “just what I hoped you'd say.” He slipped his arm into hers and they walked briskly down the quiet streets. Neither, spoke; each was buried in thought. ‘Anne wondered about Pete. Had one short week changed everything? Landers

thought of the girl who walked be-

side him. He had loved her for three years, never saying a word to any one, always standing by for Laird. And Landers was too realis-

tic to relish the role. He scorned |: the platonic, the “good-old-George,”}

the nobility of stepping aside and being ‘a good pal.

“GOOD-OLD-PAL"—it infuriated |:

him! Unconsciously he prodded himself. “Now’s your chance, George. He doesn't care about her

any more. ° You've waited long}

enough. Tell her, George. Tell hér while you've got the chance.” He clasped her hand tightly, and she looked up and smiled. “We're almost there,” she said. They were crossing the bridge over the railroad tracks. Beyond them, bathed in moonlight, ‘1ay the island—scene of college romances from time immemorial. A little stream played

around it and the trees waltzed i

lightly in a freshening wind. They ‘sat down on the bench under the old oak. Neither spoke. Finally Anne broke the silence. “Why so quiet, George?” she

“Just thinking,” he answered quietly. “Been doing a lot of think-

g. “About Pete?” : “No!” He stood up and fairly shouted it. “Not about Pete! Is that all you think I do—think of Pete,

and [worry about Pete, take care of r| Pete?” He stopped and sat down, thinking

“I'm sorry, Anne. I was

good |about you.”

“About me, George?” she said,

._ “Yes,” he said softly, “about you. Always about you, Anne. It’s never béen any other way.” She stared at him incredulously.

is,” | “You mean—

“I mean I love you, Anne.” There, ‘ a he: » tinued . % y indred ¢

ESS i 88 a

now because I have a right to.” He took her in his arms and kissed her tenderly. She was almost limp and there were tears in her eyes. . Sadi “George,” she sobbed, “oh, George, what a fool I've been! I'm so ashamed.” : Landers kissed her again and felt her arms tighten around his neck. Suddenly she broke free and stood up. ; > . “What’s the matter, darling?” he said, standing behind her. “George, I'm so confused! I never dreamed . . . please . . .” she

faltered, “please take me home.” “Sure, Anne,” he said. “Sure.”

(To Be Continued)

(All events, names and characters in this . story are fietitious)

She FEELS Like a REAL BABY!

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Soft little body and arms and legs of flesh-like rubber that feel SO resi! Big as a baby, too... 19 ‘inches long! She goes to sleep, and she’s dressed in little training pants with cute blue booties on her little pink toes. SAVE FRIDAY ! - MORNING FOR ME I'm flying into the Mu-

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| Eastern Airlines plans at 11:18 Friday morning.

that as well as I do. I'm telling you

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/ = a et SHA. SHE'S ANNA'S | HOUSE GLEST-FOR Wn SAKE

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Bt REG. 0. Pitas,

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