Decatur Daily Democrat, Volume 51, Number 114, Decatur, Adams County, 14 May 1953 — Page 11

THURSDAY, MAY U, IM< .

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Child Needs Too Much For Charily Need Too Much For j ' Private Charities NEW YORK, UP — Notebooks numbered from one to six lay on Georye J. Hecht’s cluttered desk along with scores of snapshots. The pictures showed children of 131 different nationalities. The notebooks contained names such as that of the woman doctor in Bangkok, Thailand, who adopted legally 40 of the 60 children in her institute. Hecht and his wife had just completed a trip around the world to investigate welfare conditions. He was sorting out notes and pictures for a planned book on chlldre of 13 countries. “I came back covinced that the problems of children are so huge that the idea of private charities solving them is ridiculous," said Hecht. "In Calcutta, for instance, there were 5,000 families .camping in the railroad station. They were refugees from eastern Pakistan with no place to go. We couldn’t walk through the station for fear of stepping on children.” Hecht, who publishes. Parents’ Magazine, hopes the United States will continue to support the United Nations International Children’s Emergency Fund. Indian Problem J * “Money given these countries through fund is matched by funds the countries themselves provide,” he explained. “We visit-

BLONDE W)ie Young BILL PETERS V'iSCF i

_ SYNOPSIS Barta* found hi* sweetheart. Janey sgrk-sfts! o» Wen rJr'Sn !hS‘.h?a been singlnc in a tawdry night club. BiU had every reason to believe that she had been a fine, clean-living girl. What did her young brother, Bob Nelson, a drag addict, know of this crime? Terry Mitchell, an amiable young lady of the press, loins with CanalH in bia search so- a killer. Traillngyoung Bob. CanaUi looates One of the Windy City's vicious sources of drug supply. Terry does all la her power to disillusion Bill as to Janey— declaring that she had bean just another cheap little night chib nrl. the toy of a racketeer boss. But the detective’s faith in his loved one remains unshaken, as he kisses the protesting Terry a fond good night. Inquiry among Bob Nelson's neighbors reveals to CanaUi that the lad is regarded as a mere well-dressed bum. A weakling to whom his late sister. Janey, bad been utterly devoted. CHAPTER TWELVE I WENT to work then, first on the papers and then with the map. trying to get some useful ideas about the city. There was a political mess in town, I learned from the papers, and the mayor had appointed a citizens* committee to Investigate organized crime. I didn’t read the stories on Janey, and I tried not to look at her picture, which was on an the front pages. It was a publicity still, and she looked like any one of a thousand blondes in show business. It wasn’t Janey, I thought, and then I realized bitterly that I didn’t know a thing about Janey. Alll knew were those ten days in Philiy. The map was more interesting than the papers. The Loop, I taw, was no loop at all, but a square enclosed by the tracks of the elevated system. The city faced east* wards to the lake, a three-sided town. I memorized some of the major streets; Elston, Montrose and Milwaukee on the North Side; Wentworth. Archer and Cermak on the south; Addison and Pulaski out west. The bellboy came back around •ve o’clock. I took a bath, shaved and got into clean linen and a pressed suit. After dinner I checked and found out that the Star was in the Loop, within walking distance of my hotel. I started walking. The Star was a big flamboyant Joint with a green and white canopy extending to the sidewalk, a fancy doorman and. a brilliantly lighted facade, I checked my hat and top coat and wandered into the main room, which was large, softly lighted, and nearly empty. There was an elegant bar presided over by a lean gray-haired man in the faintly contemptuous manner of most people who work to dip joints. Twa men ana a woman were at the bar, and there were a few other people scattered about at tables, a young man in a pow-der-blue suit was playing a piano on the slightly itaged Mage. He seemed very bored and w eary. He stroked the keys limply and occasionally yawned. X bad a drink at the bar, which the gray-haired bartender kindly sold me tor one dollar-and fifty cents. I looked around. This was where Janey had worked for al-

DBCATXm DAILY D&MOQRAT, DBQAtV®. &OMANA

. 11 " 1 111 ’ ll ed a new midwife school in Rangoon, Burma, which had been equipped by this fund. Children la some of those countries have been kept alive the last few years by powdered milk the United States ’provided. ’ i T ■ Hecht leafed through the notebooks for the names of wqmen in distant countries who are leading child welfare movements. “Madame Aung San is the one who took us to see the midwife school,” be said. “She is In charge of the maternal and child health department in Burma.” The woman in Bangkok Who adopted Ab children ia Dr. Pierra Hoon Vejjabula, the daughter of a well-to-do family who became a physician against her family's wishes, Hecht said. The Health Minister of India, is a woman, too. The publisher thinks children in India are the least fortunate in the world, yet even there he found “some strange contrasts,” “Half of the cpildren in India die before they are 10 years old,” he said. “But in New Delhi I visited a modern school using progressive education methods that were ahead of ours.” There's Always Weather SOUTH BEND, Ind., UP—John J. Powers, South Bend Tribune reporter, spent four hours trying to phone President Eisenhower at the White House but couldn’t get beyond the press secretary, James C. Hagerty. “It was just as well,” Powers said. “I never did figure out what to ask the man, if we were, connected." Trade in a Good Town —'Decatur

most two years, The bartender undoubtedly knew her, and these other people might have beard her sing dozens of times. They all knew her better than I had; they knew the Chicago Janey, at any rate, and she was the one who had been murdered. There wasa redhead sitting behind a green felt table in a corner of the room, and there was a leather dice cup on the table. She was a twenty-six girl, an operator who works for the house and bets you that you can’t roll twenty-six of a given number in thirteen shakes. That’s two per roll with ten dice, which isn’t as easy as it sounds. I carried my drink over tq her table. She smiled cheerfully at me and picked up her pencil “What number would you like ?” she said. “Your home phone, of course," I said. She laughed as hard at that as she probably had when she’d first heard it. "You’re a sharp one, aren’t you?” “Like a tack,” I said. ‘That’s what they say out in my home town in lowa. I’ll try sixes.” I dropped the dice into the leather cup, rattled them around and rolled them onto the soft green felt padding. Three sixes showed up, so I was off and running, one to the good. j The red-head waa very nice looking. She had oiear pale skin, brown eyes and a dusting of freckles on her shoulders and arms. She wore a green lame gown, cut very, very low over a bosom that looked as if it was shaped out of foam rubber, and her waist was trim and flat. A high-voltage type. She laughed a lot, pointlessly but pleasantly, and drummed her fingers on the edge of the table to a rapid syncopated tempo. Her eyes were very bright Full of life, I thought I "Did you know Janey Nelson?’’ I asked her. That put • a stop to the highspirited antics. She stared at me, nodding slowly. “Sure, very Well,” she said. “She—she was killed yesterday.” “X know that,” I said. "I was a friend of here.” I T never saw you in here before.” “I knew her in Philadelphia.” "Oh. I see." “Who’d want to kill her?” "Qosh, I wouldn’t know that” she said. “1 think it was a mad fiend.” ■.. hF ■ ■ “I don’t believe it,” I said. X taw her glance over my shoulder., and something changed in her face. The interest faded away and was replaced with caution. I knew someone was standing behind me, taking I "I’m going to find out who killed her.** I said. The red-head looked down at the dice with rather pointed absorption. "You must be pretty smart, friend,” a voice on my right said. “Yeah, real smart.” This one came from my loft ■< , ' . ; 1 .. I ■-- - '

Coronation Is Top Tourist Attraction I . . > V . .. \ •-• CrowningQf Queen Tops F<rr Tourists LONDON, UP — The coronation of Britain’s Queen Elizabeth II is the biggest tourist drawing card tn Europe this year despite the fact that only a select handful of those going abroad will see the ceremonies. The rush is on- for one reason. There’s a good show,‘even if you aren'L.oue of the lucky 7,500 invited to sit. in historic Westminster Abbey. Millions will get a chance to see the Queen in the coronation procession, before and after the Abbey ceremony. \ Most of the spectators along the six-mile route will be standing, just as you watch a parade in any city in the United States. About 100,000 will have seats along the route —seats costing from 515 to 5150, depending on their proximity ta the Abbey. * Early Activity The procession route starts at Buckingham Palace, the Queen’s residence, and winds through London streets to the Abbey. After the coronation, the route way bdek tothe palace is via several parks and squares so additional thousands will havq a chance to, see the Queen. , Coronation day June 2, will begin early for everyone. By 8:30 a.m., all the troops will have lined the streets and the spectators with

1 turned around slowly holding the leather dice cup in my hands. There were two men looking me up and down, two hoodlums of the dinner-jacket class. They were smiling as if they’d said something funny. The one on my left was a little shorter than 1 am, but just as wide, and his shoulders bulged impressively beneath his midnightblue dinner jacket He had a broad, evenly tanned face, narrow dark eyes and black hair slicked straight back from his forehead. He smelled faintly of lavender cologne. His companion was a sipall, smiling young man with a pale, alert, eager face and thinning blond hair. He was the nervous type; his small feminine hands, his slender body, his grinning, mobile face—all of this equipment was to constant twitching motion. I J The big boy removed a gold cigaret case from his breast i pocket selected a cigaret and put it tn his mouth. His twitching little friend snapped a gold lighter and held it to the tip of the cigaret \ "Thanks, Eddie,” the., big boy said, and blew a stream of aromatic smoke into my face. “You’re going to find out who killed Janey Nelson, eh’?” he said. That's right,” I said. T’ve got ideas.” "So?” he said, raising his eyebrows. He blew another stream of smoko into my face. I waved the smoke away and coughed. “Excuse me,” I said, and put a hand against his chest I shoved lightly but he didn’t budge. He smiled at me lazily. I put some muscle into it then and pushed him back a good two feet He kept smiling. He didn’t seem annoyed. “Sorry,” he said. “Supposing you teU me about your ideas,” he said. “We know Janey pretty well around here, and liked her. If you know anything, we’d like to hear about it” “I’ll tell your boss,” I said. "My boss?” I “That’s right Mort Ellerton. He owns the Joint doesn’t he?” , “Hmm mm, so he does,’” the big boy said, as if he’d just remembered that trivial fact The little fellow, called Eddie, glanced back and forth between us, twitching nervously, tapping the floor with a small black shoe and smiling the way nasty kids do when they pull cats* ’ tails. The thing is, Mort’s not here,” the big boy said. “You really want to talk to him, eh?” h. laughed for a few seconds, showing nice even teeth, very white in his big tanned face. “Well, okay,” he said. “You asked for it Come on.” I turned around and dropped the dice cup on the red-head's table. “X’U finish the game later. Okay?” I grinned at her and she gave me a small, cautious smile, “Any time,” she said. rrogeOonNMMdJ

seats will be fn their places. . The show gets going with the Lord Mayor of London’s procession, the first of nine separate onei which will wend their way to t|ie Abbey. The last of the nihe will* be Elizabeth’s, which is by far the most elaborate. After the coronation, all will be amalgamated into one colorful procession, headed by an additional military •pargde. representing all the British fighting services. From dawn until day is done there will be something going on. During the Abbey ceremony, when there’s nothing to see, in the streets, thore’ll be something to hear —broadcasts over loudspeakers by a small army of reporters front BBC, describing the Abbey sceiie. \ The gun salutes from Hyde Park and the Tower of London at l£:30 p.m. will tell the crowds the Queen is crowned. And the Queen's triumphal procession back to Buckingham Palace will be the climax. Consort in Coach In. all, eight nations and 50territories of the Commonwealth will .be represented. The procession will take an estimated 45 minutes -to pass any given point. The air will resound to the playing of nearly 2,000 musicians in 46 bands. About 10,000 troops will be in the procession, and another 15,000 will line the route. The Duke of Edinburgh, Elizabeth’s husband, will ride to and from the Abbey with the Queen in her golden state coronation coach. He fall wear the full-dress uniform "of an admiral of the fleet. On her way back, the Queen will wear a robe of purple velvet and the iinperial crown, with its 21,783 jewels. »The stat© coach, as ornate as something right out of the movies, will l|e drawn by eight horses, the famous Windsor greys, in red and gold dress. This coach was made in 17$2* for King George 111, and at the tpne was both the moat splendid vehicle on wheels and the rflost scientific. Now it lifts a right royal claim of being the world’s most uncomfortable vehicle. It has no springs, no brakes. It’s so heavy that if it were involved in a runaway, it would be stopped by nothing less than a stone building. Whe the last of the bands and the troops have gone by, the Royal Air Force -will put on an air show, called: a “fly past.” This will give the Queen time to take a brief rest at the palace before her final public appearance of the day—qn the balcony of the palace to receive an ovation from her subjects. The Quiet Life WINSTON-SALEM, N- C., UP — Detective Sgt. Ed Hemmings spent more than a quarter of a century on thej force and never pulled his pistol from its holster. “•Maybe it was Ipck.” Hemmings explained as he | retired recently. “But I’ve alwayft made it a point to reason and let the other fellow tell his side.” > i Trude in a Good town—Decatur

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