The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1929-07-20
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kS ELEANOR EARLY VIZ @ 1929 By HEA Jer"se Ire

Now you're talking he approved
We'll. trot out your chicken. dear.
And put some coffee on like a good
girl
And you'll tell me everything?
she bargained.
everything he promised.
Molly plugged in the percolator
and cut bread for the electric toast
er. The little roast chicken looked
tempting. and the big apple pie. Red
lit a cigaret. and while they waited
for the coffee to boil began his story.
"THERES a boy" he said,
IL named Perry Ingersol, q
Junior at the university. Perry got
very. very drunk tonight. and talked
his head off, I've parked him nov
in my little BED. with Slim Boynton,
to see that he doesn't wander off.
Because, just between you and me,
Molly. I don't know what we'd bet
tor do with the kid
Did he know Bernice Bradford?'
she interrupted eagerly.
Did he know her?" repeated Red
dramatically. Dear woman, he vas
going to marry her!
Red He wasn't"
I've seen the marriage license"
But why didn't some one find out
before? A marriage license! Why,
1t must have been taken out in her
name
1T vas he interrupted dryly.
only her name wasn't Bradford.
Our fair Bernice had been married
before. Her husband, since dead,
was a man named Bones. Nice,
romantic name-BoneS. And Ber-
nices first name was Mary. Every
one always called her Bernice. It
was her middle name. Naturally
the clerks at the registers Office
never connected Mary Bones,
widow, With the deceased Bernice
Bradford"
my heavens! Did the Ingersou
boy know about BarrOWs?"
Red nodded. Yeap. But he was
ii love with her just the same.
Can you beat that, Molly? Here's
a guy-a handsome kid. too-proud
OLD family, and Gil that sort OF
thing-and he goes off his nut about
a woman old enough to De his
mother"
"Bernice was "a" Molly remind
ed him.
well. anyhow" pursued Red, this
kid fell head over heels in love with
her. Used to write poetry and all
that mush.'
How do you knoW?'
Amt 1 telling YOU? He told
me-" Red looked hurt. Here /
am. spilling d story that hasn't q
beat this side Of the Rue morgue,
and you throw questions at me like
a blooming prosecutor"
Go on" she besought. II won't
say another word. Start at the be-
ginning, Red. Where did you meet
this Great Loyer?"
up on Beacon Hill. In one Of
those So-called Bohemian dives. The
kid vas crying like a fool He
looked like a decent sort and he
was alone. Slim and were sitting
opposite him, and you know Sims
big heart"
Il know yours" interrupted Molly.
''No, it was Sims" he insisted,
Slim says. There's a poor son of a
gun making q fool of himself over
some woman, most likely. What do
you say, Red, if We take him for a
Talk?'
We'll the proprietor was all set
to kick him out, so it looked like
good idea. Just a coupla nice boy
scouts-me and Slim. We got him
between us, and We walked down the
Hill. And pretty soon he stopped
his crying, and he began to babble.
Kept talking about 'Bernice.' Nat
urally Slim and 1 perked up our
ears.
"I gave Slim the high sign, and
We began to propel our fine young
lad over to my room. He'd begun
to sober off a little by the time we
reached there. Not much, but
enough so he was half rational.
Then he got a talking jag. Nothing
would do but he must talk
and of all the people he picked
TO talk tot" breathed Molly.
Nov, see here" protested Red,
that's no way to talk. We've been
darn white to that kid, me and
Slim. We've fed him black coffee
and aspirin. And Sims there,
watching over him like a guardian
angel, until such time amended
Red honestly, "as we decide what
we're going to do with him."