Newspaper Page Text
I he Dingbat Family
By Herriman
You Know How it Is When Your Neighbor Gets a Car
Copyright, 1918, Intimation*] Now*
FATHER
MOVILLAN
IF I
AiAKE-SU-J,
OVER TfcAJ
.lit Pinch (
Y Him A
r fbeK aajd'L
i Beamed -
."WHEN 'IHEV
\ HAVE IT j
THsyU dt 1
swell To c
A/OTlC E OS
; GCADIU'-^"
A/nY his j SBra* r-
tJECOAimJ SET he Lui
^HAAJDri rt| SOlON HAIR.
''NrT
) (/AJbTAU-MEAjt')
T Pi am J !
•s OME OP )
Them % (
I or A HORSE'
Power r—-
Ih i c us/V f
(.MODOA YKAJOW Af
Them Di^BATb
1 HAVING A CZl
T AuTomo&ice
uiwooy " j
ONE Ob
• DEM
;creep
,ABouT
A DETECTIVE STORY
l) door of Father Movillan n
house .swung loosely on Its hinge**
Within was darkness ami with-
K)d a little group of neighbors.
« an\ one seen Father Movillan.
?” asked one of these,
workingmen moved nearer to ih«
5Hoo8oy, SHOO
Git The Air,
i Git The Air.
“No,*' said one of them, “we have,
not seen him. Why don’t you enter'.*
The door in ajar.”
The llrst speaker detached himsel#
from the group and entered the house,
tho onlookers whispering among them
selves. Father Movillan had inherited
$10,000. and had not been seen since
he received, the cash. Finally the white
face of the investigator appeared at the
door.
“For God's sake!" he cried, *'oome
quick! There has been a murder!"
The crowd entered the house, and
there before them lay the body of Father
Movillan in a pool of blood.
After the first shock was over they
remembered that it was their duty to
notify the police. Before the detectives
arrived, however, the news of the mur
der had si»read, and a great crowd had
gathered around.
The police investigation revealed the
fact that Father Movillan had received
four deep stab wounds, and that the.
$10,000 was gone. Further investlga
tion was turned over to tho master de
tective, James Black, and the next day
he was on the spot, carefully examining
every nook and comer of tho house*.
As he was about to leave the room
Where the murder was done, hie eyes
fell upon a broad box standing In a
corner. On top of the box was u. little
heap of ashes, evidently those from a
cigarette.
Black turned to the local detective,
who was with him and who had known
the murdered man.
"Did. Father Movillan smoker he
asked.
"No. he did not smoke, but he used
snuff."
“Indeed," said Black, and smiled' as he
examined the ashes more carefully.
“The fellow smoked Turkish elga
rettes,” he mumbled to himself.
In the stymre between, the church
and the police station the detective,
found a cigar store, In the rear of which
was a small restaurant. He went Inside
and sat down at a table.
"Give me a cup of (toffee," he said to
the proprietor who was acting as a
waiter as well. When the coffee, was
brought he engaged the man in con
versation. asking him a number of
questions about the town. §
Then, after searching through all h«s
pockets, he said:
“I am all out of cigarettes. You don't
happen to have Nazir, I suppose?"
“Yes. I have.”
"Then please give me a package.**
The proprietor brought ir.
"I don’t suppose you sell many of
that brand here?”
“No. They are too expensive. How
ever, I did sell a package of them the
day before yesterday.”
“And who was the free sj
HAWA/K
TS-KtfAWNK
wUf> kwa'nN k
I'VrrwTTH ~ —+— M
H 11,1 '.‘TTTnr ■- -
V/MTAge. OF
I CAN Tto. gv
The WHISTLE,
bEE I6NAT2'',
The 'Sun" Me
HATH SETtETH
U)E will sit Right Down
here,Ano ^'T uwTic
HE RlSETH ^
Positive Polly
By Cliff Sterrett
Copyright, 1W3, International New* fjervlo*
WAL 1 JuSt Vbu
tell Ver
UWCIE S4HMV
AM- ABOUT
'T, won/ey
LET'S 1 hear,
it r
M <£.,-> HAPPy L
Juft F-E-EL Like
HAViul - A *
6cou Cfev!
oeucia Gal,
WHAT'Svl- MAT-TfeRT
O oH -N-N-M -O
Bo-hoo! '
P pp POLLY’S
A A A -
D-e-e-ar. 1
Uoo-fld-00
OOAH- VA$
Hiwa'JS Jus*
l i-hHTt
Ain't V happy here
'With Me AW ^r.
4uWTl£‘5ctf'lE,
CuiLD ? \
PollY keen/
Gmtv iki
Some of her
Sarcastic Oils 2
Tom McNamara
Shrimp Flynn Admits He’s Nonplussed
Itegistered T'niveJ States Patent Office
ipender?” in-
j quired the detective.
! “A soldier. Jules Buiandon, who has
just returned, from the maneuvers, lie
has served hip term in l‘ari« and there
developed some extravagant habits
Now he is home again with his parents,
who are respectable people, but be
won’t be with them very long, 1 guess
He spends most of his time at the Gold
en Hen.”
Jn the afternoon Black went to the
Golden Hen, the best inn in the place.'
Around the tables a number of men
sat smoking, drinking and talking. Black
glanced about and sat down next to the
two men who were playing cards.
He watched them closely and noticed
that one of them, a rather young and
handsome man, appeared to be nervous.
After a while one of the player* stood
up and said that he must leave on ao
count of an appointment. The young
man looked annoyed, and when Black
suggested that he would take the place
of the departing man his offer vm
eagerly accepted.
The detective proved himself a. good
player, but luck was aglnst him ai»d h*
lost most of the time. After a while He
began to fumble through his pocket*
If looking for something.
“What is the matter? Have you lost
anything?” his partner aakod.
“No; I thought I had some cigarettes.
! but it does not matter at all.'**
“Have one of mine,” the other said.
1 ;is he handed him a package of Nhzfr.
T see you smoke Turkish Hgarettee.
j too, like myself.”
“Yes. I do not like French tobacco:
it is too strong for me,” he answered,
lighting one.
The game went on, and Black learned
that his guess had been right and that
his companion was indeed Jules Balan
don.
Occasionally Balandon struck off the
ashes of his cigarette in the ash tray.
He was greatly interested in the game,
and did not observe the detective pocket
some of the ashes.
“Did you ever notice," Black said,
“that the ashes of good tobacco are
much finer and lighter than those of the
ordinary kind?” And he pointed to the
ash tray.
“No, I never thought of that." Balan
don replied, shuffling the cards.
“Well, then, I am different. It may
ometimes be of the greatest impor
tance.”
"Really, l don’t see”—
"Well, I will show you,” Black said,
producing from his pocket the paper
containing the ashes he had picked up
earlier in Father Movillan’s room.
“It is as plain as day,” ho'said. “You
will notice that the ashes in this paper
are exactly like the ashes from your
cigarette, and this is enough for me to
prove that the murderer of Father Mo
villan is Jules Balandon."
He stopped a moment and looked at
Balandon, who was as white as a sheer
Then he stood up and laid his hands on
the shoulders of the other player
"In the name of the law.” he said. “I
arrest you.”
«5KtNNT SHANER'S
GOCtett department
Aten's *s*ma**>
I DON'T WANT TO >
KIT HIM Tc$ HM», )
*ADS= I Mi6KT HURT (
I'll SALARY WlN&lT
GEE I THINK HE
SEEN ME ‘. <—•
IM (S0NNA TAKE A CHANCE AND
slam that gut EAGtE beak
Jl)*T FOR Fl'lU.,-Tfg^,,y
I THINK HE'S J
WsU VMH)
SAVED IT
Ail RIGHT,
l lit ARE D
HE DID 1 r
WELL ILL p/ND
HE FOR TOO
SA&LsBEAKiS •
QmAujiJi >
W*T IS (WOMEN SO ,
HARD To UiOOERStANDf
BECAUSE TUST NED6X
TRY To MAKE TJiEMSftOf*
PLAIN—
THAT'S RI6HT \mhaTs THF
use foa ARGUING*
tb'-djOJtfD
FROM 0
*0UB. UL FRPh) “
GEORGIA LEOJ'S
PHILADELPHIA
\f» fe L|T:?AK VVjAN'fS TO FI MO SKIN NY t'O
DP THE STREET DOWN 6T THE ;
Ci^er QAitce. -— J
TWHDIrTIFHC «,
SUCH A T006H
I'LL A GAME GUT- ILL
HEY
SHRIMP
VY60 KWO'A) 0IHERG
(AIM IS AT 1 j
AND KEEP MY
HANDG IN ,
MT POCKETS. <
IF HE HUS '
ME HE'S A /
COWARD 1 J
FIRE HOUSE j
^FANKS>!l
U.s. A
W«EA) IS A KAJoT-
WOLE Nor WHOLE ?
Al^T IT A SHAME?
touIl all haue ro
WAIT TILL To-MORRtKO
for the answerj^
BUT
Tou cam viAit;
C.KNV *
By George McManus
Bringing Up Father
1913, Infernalional News Service.
TOO DUES,
TOU I'Ll
. MUST T/SKt
HIM MOMF •
' aOOCHT A, DOC
ONCE thm *
V'ATCh DOG ■ HE
lAED to watch
the dorglar^
ROB Tme moose
'(VHATSThE
MATTER SwiTH
Too DOG'
t OOULES
IS A GOOD
WATCH DOC
TOO
| HUBBY -DEAR I
1 WANT You TO
SEE THlB POPPY
MRS Smith HAS
Do Bajiy ME ONI
LIMP. IT
’Onry sir- but your
'i-2 "Sir. is coming up
^'R WITH a LADY ■ SIR
TO SEE You SIR - YES
“Lik - thank, You - Sir •
ID RATHER
HAVE A
COAT
HE MAY lie A
puppy q<jy he
HAS A MAN-S
thirst .
you Should get
one they're so
affectionate -1
call This one
Toodles"' 1
.EE i gotta
HIDE t H is - I
NeVER get a
MINUTE to
me self: I
Some Use After All. ,
Diminutive Onlooker Rafter golfer
makes his sixth fruitless stroke)—“If
ver dig up any wriggly worms, can
I ’ave’ era, guv-nor, ’co« I’m going a-