The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1931-10-22

story though, so he wasn't cheating
the paper, he reflected uneasily. But
long experience with such promises
had taught him to suspect their
worth, alas.
Shed probably call up some day
and tell him her dog was lost and
consider she'd given him a sensa-
tional story. Most people, and par
ticularly women. he reflected Bit
terly, had no idea what the news
paper business was all about.
Well if he didn't find a tele-
phone pretty quick, he wouldn't
make the final with the story he did
have. He chugged along to the cor
ner, looking for drug store. There
was one across the street.
He had to stand and wait outside
the only telephone booth the store
afforded. Cursing under his breath,
he paced back and forth before its
closed glass door.
His impotence mounted rapidly
as a glance into the dark interior
showed him that the young man
within was not talking-just stand
ing with his elbow on the shelf,
holding the receiver at his ear. Now
and then he jiggled the hook. It
was maddening. If he couldn't get
his number, why dind't the fool
hang up?
Bowen's vicious glances presently
tired of waiting, for soon, choosing
a time when the tuning Bowen was
glazing into the depths Of cigar
counter, he opened the door Of the
booth and slipped out.
Bowen caught only a frightened
glance as the boy hurried out. A
fat woman who just had come in
oozed into the booth, and the re-
porter gave her a dirty look and set
out to find another drug store.
Outside he looked about. The boy
who had been in the booth stood in
the shelter of the doorway, now and
then peering furtively out.
just then Bowen's eye fell on
Mary Hardness standing on the OPP
posite corner, looking anxiously
about, Bowen stared apprecia-
lively.
What prize subject she would
be for the photographers if it
turned out that she was what he
feared she Was-a smart little gold
digger too smart to look the part.
There would be pictures of her
standing, sitting, with legs crossed
and-looking through the bars,
probably. Hard luck!
Why did the mere thought of
Mary Hardness tossed in with the
rest Of the rabble in police court
make him feel sick? Little girls
with itching palms and "stickup"
friends put themselves in the way
Of such treatment when they set
out to get-rich-quick. But the re-
Election was no comfort to him.
Bowen threw his cigaret into the
gutter in disgust. 1t was hell, but
he was falling in love.
CUDDENLY the girls face lighted
~ up and she ran forward at sight
of some one. For a glad instant
Bowen believed it was himself. Then
the chap from the telephone booth
brushed against him as he hurried
to cross the street.
Bowen caught a glimpse of a
tanned boyish jaw, unshaven, and
hunted gray eyes, as he looked
hurriedly right and left before
plunging into the traffic. The blue
suit was wrinkled and mussed, and
he wore no hat.
Mary had rushed to the curb and
was holding out her hands. The
boy had reached the middle of the
street now and stood between two
rushing streams of cars. A break
in the traffic-one more leap-and
he would have reached the other
side.
The zeal of the news-hunter
awoke in Bowen and drowned out
every other voice. There, if you
like, went the Jupiter murderer
S%AA 4ASAO oOWClA OOOOO4
If ever there was fugitive from
justice, that boy looked and acted
the part. The reporter hurried
across.
He had gained the middle of the
street, too, and was just a few
steps behind Hardness, waiting for a
chance to go on, when long black
streak swerved out of it's place in
line and shot down the middle lane
as if heading straight for the boy.
A shout of warning burst from
Bowen's lungs. He lunged and tried
to grasp the boy, but Hardness had
heard and jumped back.
The car shot past almost in the
same instant, swerving deliberately
toward Hardness, who stumbled and
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