The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1931-12-08
CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT


IT was Louise who finally cleared
Il it all up for them-with what
facts De Tomas confession gave
them.
Starkly beautiful in her grief, the
old arti1ciality wiped away by the
utter genuineness of her emotion,
she sat stif1y erect in her chair
while the others heard what she
had to tell.
Bruce was not here, but that was
just as well, for he must have been
hurt horribly by the revelation that
the woman he loved never had
loved him at ALL
He had been only rich mans
son to her, while the scapegrace
De Loma-who as Mary suspected,
had neglected to divorce her-had
been the real and only love of her
life.
De Iona was not a count, Of
course, nor even a true Spaniard.
Just a youth of mixed blood and
obscure heritage, born in the little
country town on the Dixie highway
where Bates had encountered him.
staring at the courthouse steeple in
such peculiar fashion.
That was an odd thing, but easily
understood when you knew what
the tragedy of his iIl-starred life
had been.
Even as a limber-legged youth,
he had had aspirations-to be a
human flyl More daring than tie
others, he had enjoyed impressing
them with his reckless ability, and
before long he had become a pro-
fessional, travelling about with a
manager who talked stores into
paying him to carry their advertis-
ing signs on his back as he climbed
public buildings.
Enrique De Iona was too much
Of name for the typographers,
however, and less musical-his
manager believed-than the English
version of his name.
Thus he became Harry Hill, the
Human Fly" Oh all the posters.
Afterward when he branched out
into other professions he often used
the name as an alias. This &C
counted for Bowens inability to I'M
cover his police record.
But what, Bates interrupted at
this point, had the village court
house to do with all this? Was it
merely sentiment that carried him
back to gaze upon it years after
ward2
TIE fell, you See" Louise ex-
II planned. Apparently she saw
nothing funny in her lovers choice
of occupation; it was all bitterly
real to her.
"He-possibly he tried to-how do
you say it?-show off a little, for
the benefit of the home folks. But
the sun was in his eyes, and he
missed his step.
He was badly hurt-his bones
we're broken in many places. But
he got we'll. He did not mind the
broken bones, but it made him hor-
ribly sad that he no longer could
be the greatest Human Fly in the
world. For you see, ne had lost
his nerve.
HE could not bear high places
after that. 1t was dreadful. He
told me about it when we went to
Paris on our honeymoon, and
wished him to take me up in the
Eiffel tower. Even an elevator used
to make him i'll. He, who had never
known what fear wasl
Il alone knew and I pitied him.
He wanted to prove his courage to
me. to show me he was not alto
gether a coward He did daring
things-he became a gambler and a
thief.
HE had to be brave, for he could
not enter by the window, as some do
he had to bluff his way in, and
people might see and identify him.
But they never did. He was SUI
premely clever, or he never would
have evaded the police so long. They
knew all about him, but they could
not prove anything-really
"As a matter of fact, he was cred
tied with many jobs that he did not
do. If he entered a house it was
by a ruse, never by the upstairs
window! He would have died first.
A T the word died" a spaSm of
pain crossed her face and she
began to cry. L can not tell any
more" she sobbed.
HE left you?" Bates prodded.
Louise wiped her eyes and nodded.
"He knew what my work was. He
should have believed that I did not
have any love for the men I duped.
Stupid fools! Again and again 1
told him what donkeys they we're,
to let themselves be feeced by a
clever woman.