The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1929-07-25
CHAPTER XIV.

4
THE weekend in New York con-
/ stituted two days Of wretched
ness. Molly had expected praise and
encouragement from Jack. And
she received instead disparagement
and censure. He disapproved
strongly of her work. He was jeal-
ously resentful of Red Flynn, and
hated, he admitted, the ways Of all
newspaper men.
Why don't you write something
worth while, Molly2" he pleaded.
What would you suggest?" she
had inquired. frigidly polite.
But Jack was vague. "Oh, some
thing nice" he floundered. You
used TO write sweet little verses And
I bet you could write pretty stories
for children. Then there are all the
high class magazines. My gosh,
Molly, you don't have to write for
such a screaming newspaper
But I want to earn money,
Jack" she had defended herself.
Poetry doesn't pay anything. Be
sides, I'm no poet. AS for childrens
n1agazines-" She fluttered her
white little hands despairingly. L
tell you, dear, a steady job on a
newspaper is best. 1t assures an in
come, you see, and doesn't prohibit
me from taking fling at your high
class magazines. Or even trying my
hand at play"
Jack groaned. That play again!
OF all the sordid, rotten themes,
you picked the darndest. If you
want to write play, why don't you
write about something decent?"
at doesn't pay" she informed
him tartly.
How about Peter PAM"
But that was ages ago, dear.
Eugene O'Neill doesn't write fairy
tales, nor Charlie Macarthur and
Ben Hecht. Take the outstanding
successes. Crime plays, or sex plays,
all Of them"
80 that's what you want to do?"
he demanded disagreeably. Write
crime and sex?"
I want to make money" she told
him YEARLY, TO buy all the lovely
things I dream about, and go to all
the lovely places I've read about.
But it isn't only money that
want. I want to be somebody. Not
Just little Molly Burnham who mar
ried that nice young man, Jack
Wells T."
Don't let me cramp your style"
he injected bitterly.
A ND so they quarreled and blck-
"A cred, and Jack never guessed
that, womanlike. Molly would have
forsworn all her dreams Of wealth
and fame for a man who could
dominate her. So he criticised and
found fault. and adopted quite the
wrong tactics, until Molly was glad
when it was time to leave.
Tt hasn't been very nice week
end she confessed penitently at
parting, land I feel as though it
was pretty much my fault. I guess
I'm awfully selfish. I love you with
ali my heart, Jack. But getting
married, to cook pot roastS and darn
socks, and budget on $45 a week,
doesn't sound half so romantic as
it used TO. I've had my taste of
independence, and found it sweet
Do you hate me. darling, for being
modern and hardboiled. and all the
horrid things you abominate?"
Hate youl" he cried. oh, Molly
dear, if I we're only good enough
for you. and clever. and rich!"
She put her fingers to his lips.
-"Sh! Honey, we're both going to
knock EN- dead!"
In the morning Molly went direct
~ from the train TO the courthouse.
AS she approached the building she
was conscious Of a curious atnos-
phere of suppressed excitement.
-lainclothes men lounged on the
courthouse steps, while others. in
uniform, kept curious pedestrians
moving. In the corridor she met
Slim Boynton.
There's hell to pay" he told her
.grimly. And if you don't get jailed
for contempt of court. you're luckier
than you deserve. One of the jury
men got hold of a story you wrote
OF course they're not supposed TO
look at the newspapers. but this bird
did And now he admits that he's
all set to find Mandinello guilty. At
torneys for the defense have petit
toned for a mistrial, and the Judge
is considering the evidence now
You'll probably be called 70 his
chambers any minute It's WAR
tons fault. And now the whole out
fts liable to go TO Jail"
Slim You don't mean it?"
Molly experienced a dreadful
sinking feeling. and her knees be-
came suddenly weak.
Sure I mean it. What DO you
think I am. a practical little joker?