Indianapolis Times, Volume 48, Number 33, Indianapolis, Marion County, 18 April 1936 — Page 15

APRTL IB,I9B6

Today's Short Story DARLING By Charles J. McGuirk

MR. HENRY (BLAST) SCHLAGG, New York's Public Enemy No. 1, attired like Solomon in broadcloth, silk and soft leather, sat in the shadowed comer of a brightly lit room in a cheap uptown hotel a half block from Broadway. His was not a striking presence. His face was dish-shaped and heavy-jowlcd under thinning strawcolored hair. His mouth slit straight across it. His eyes, gray and cold, darted toward the door at the slightest pound from outside the room. There was no sound within it. Only the shadow of a bodiless, impending terror. Up to him through the two tightshut and curtained windows came the cacophony of the city 13 stories below. It came in a kind of ghastly hum. the eerie clang of street cars, the honks of motor horns, the overtones of the late night crowds thronging Broadway just around the corner. They brought with them a whispered menace. n u a HE shrugged the thought away. Death couldn't get near him here. Too many bodyguards. There were two outside the door, two at the shaft out of which rose both elevator and stairs, two at either end of the coridor. Three more lounged in the lobby below. Two lookouts lurked on the street near the hotel entrance. Nobody could get past these thirteen. Unless Unless one of these 13 turned traitor, rat! His trembling hand clutched the butt of the automatic in its shoul-der-holster. It came away, lifted a leather cigar case from his pocket. He lit an expensive panatella and puffed it nervously. His wristwatch registered 12:20. Twenty minutes after midnight. He took out a large silk handkerchief and mopped his wet brow. He was nervous. Why the hell didn’t somebody come? Where were the six trusted trig-ger-men ne had dispatched to cool out Ltick Louey Spinozza, his smart, slim, dark, and deadly rival? They had to get him because Louey was the brains of the “Big Four,’’ a syndicate made up of the city’s four most powerful mob leaders, and the "Big Four” was out to bump him, “Blast” Schlagg. a a a IT was either Louey or him, because Louey was too smart. Louey was the only one smart enough to put a price of 50 grand on his. Blast’s, head. And how long could anybody on Broadway remain alive with a 50-grand price on his head? He hated Louey with the cold, merciless hate the cobra holds for the mongoose, but he was hot, too, with anger at himself. He should have known enough to wipe out Louey three years ago, as soon as Louey climbed out of the ruck of his moib and showed how smart he was, how smooth he was with dolls As soon as he sawr how they fell for him after one look at Louey's handsome pan. ' Yeh. he should have had him blasted as he had Ankles Lehman and Donkey Reggio and Marathon Sobowski, the three deadliest rivals he had conquered in his 10year tenure of the throne as King Racketeer. Them and 121 others, besides the 98 of his own mob who had died in reprisals. tt n rrvHEN the ruthless will which had A hauled him to the top of the rackets and kept him there for a decade attacked his lifelong weakness, physical cowardice. What was the matter with him? It was either him or them, wasn’t it? If he had double-crossed most of them, it was because they'd have done the same to him. You couldn't trust nobody in the rackets. Nobody! Nobody except Helen. Helen, his wife, the beautiful girl he’d pulled out of a Broadway floor show and finally married. The doll who stood away out from all the other girls he had ever known. The babe he’d buried a million in safety deposit boxes for in case—in case he was knocked off. The ghostly crowd thronging the room dispersed at the warning thought of her. God! Just the way she said, “Darling!” And where the hell was she? Why didn't she come? She was due an hour ago! He jumped up and started toward the door. And halted as the bodyguard’s knocks, two, a pause, and three quick ones, announced her arrival. He unchained and unlocked the door and let her in. “Hello. Darling!” she said huskily and right away he melted and wanted to cry and love her. u u m SHE stepped past him, clad in mink and silk, as his fumbling fingers turned the key and she was smiling softly as he came to her. His hands lifted her wrap. They threw it on a chair and came back to her shoulders. She stood lax, her half-clasea eyes drawing him. His hands quested and her heavy mouth turned upward, seeking. "Darling!” she whispered. “Darl-ing! H he muttered and bent i to her lips as a weary, thisty desert j traveler bends to the clear sweet! pool of the oasis. “Darling!’' .in hour later, he kissed her good

night and turned the key to open the door. “Oh, be careful, darling!” she pleaded. “They're after you. And they’re smart.” "Forgot it!” he barked. “A lot of other smart guys have started after me in the last ten years. And what’s the answer? I'm still here and they ain't.” a m n “RUT you mustn’t take any 13 chances!” she insisted. “Sweetheart, why don’t you get out of town for a while? Until this blows over.” “Till the heat dies down, you mean,’ he grinned. “All right. I take it on the lam. And what happens? Lucky Louey and his rats get the credit for chasing me. And what does that make me? It makes me yellow. And you know what happens to a Big Shot that turns yellow? His own mob puts him in the grease, rubs him out. They have to. He’s their only protection and if he runs out on them, they have to blast him to prove to the other torpedoes that they don’t want any part of a guy like that.” “Oh, Blast,” she whimpered, the team welling in her eyes, “why can’t you 'get out of this kind of life? Why can’t you forget your pride? You and I could go away. We could go to California or Europe—any place but here. We could change our names and live without being afraid all the time that someone would—would kill you.” “Uh-uh,” he grunted after a long pause and his voice now was wistful. “The only way to get out of the rackets is to die out. What good do you think changing our names would do? Why, no matter where we went, we’d meet somebody who knew us. And he’d pass the word. And some day I’d get mine. Maybe you would, too. A Big Shot on the lam is just hard luck. Listen, Baby. Don’t you worry. I’ve been in tougher spots than this and I’ll ride this one out.” n a a BUT suppose they find out where you are?” “Look," he said, taking her hands in his and gazing down on her. “Quit worrying, will you? Now, in the first place, they’ll never find me. Unless,” he added struck with a sudden thought, “they tailed you. Why, sure, maybe they,did, at that.” “No,” she smiled. “I saw to that. I took four taxicabs to get here. And I left the last one five blocks from here. There isn’t a chance.” “You’re smart,” he praised her. “All right, then. They’ll never find me. And if you think I sit here day and night like a cornered rat, you’re crazy. I get out every once in a while. If I didn’t, I’d go nuts. I’m going out in half an hour. I’m giving you that much time to get'away from here.” “Where are you going?” she said, faintly. “Oh, no, Blast! Please don’t! Please!” “Listen,” he grinned. “I’m going down to Pete’s all-night restaurant. That’s four doors from here. I’m going to grab me a steak and French fries. I’m so hungry I could eat a wolf.” “No, Blast!” she pleaded. “Promise me you won’t leave this room!” “No,” he said, with complete finality. “I’m going. Now beat it.” “Oh, darling!” she whispered. “Good-night. Oh, I wish you would not go!” Her kiss on his lips. The door closing and clanging behind her. a tt a The naif-hour ticked leadenly past in a slow, dragging way which made it seem like an eternity. When the last minute of it drew itself across his wrist watch, he put on his overcoat and knocked on the door. He stepped through It and his two gorillas closed in on either side of him. When he reached the elevator he pressed the button and the others gathered around him. When he went through the lobby, he walked alone, but there were men all around him, moving in his direction. Thus, they covered the short distance to Peter’s and swung in and took their places at the tables. And thus they sat until 3:10 that morning, until the splitting bark of a tommy-gun was heard in the night and the plate glass of Pete’s front shattered and Blast Schlagg, New York’s Public Enemy No. 1 saw death leaping luridly at him from a gun-mouth. Death didn’t hurt. His body cringed and writhed but there was no pain. He never even thought of it. He thought of Helen. “Darling!” he smiled. And died. a a a AT dawn, four hours later, Lucky Louey spinozza. Blast's smart, slim, dark, deadly rival, watched the slow opening of his room door in the Bandbox Hotel. Helen, clad in mink and silk, came in and toward him, smiling softly. He got up. “We got Blast.” he grinned. “An | hour and a half after you spotted I him for us.” She didn’t answer. Just stood there, lax, her half-closed eyes drawing him. He took her fn his arms and her heavy mouth turned upward, seeking. He bent to her! lips, as a thirsty desert traveler j bends to the clear, sweet pool of j the oasis. Her eyes widened, then closed. “Darling!” she whispered. THE END. _ •

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS—

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

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ALLEY OOP

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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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THE TARZAN TWINS

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“I am Tarzan,” the man smiled. The boys smiled at him unbelievingly. “We thought you were dead!” Doc* stammered. “And I was afraid you might be,” the ape-man replied; “I did not think you could survive the dangers of the jungle.” Tarzan looked at them proudly.

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“From afar I saw your stand against the Bagalla. You were brave lads. In the jungle only the brave may live. Fortunately my Waziri warriors were ahead of me and gave you aid in time.” Now, with a questioning stare, Doc indicated the apes. Tarzan smiled again.

With Major Hoople

OUT OUR WAY

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W “TARZAN if th e mighty I AND THE f ‘ he ! LEOPARD MEN" |

“They are my friends. They knew I was looking for you, and they took you from the battlefield for fear a stray arrow might strike you. They are your friends, too. And the two blacks who aided you, the pygmy and the big fellow, they shall be rewarded when we reach home.”

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

“You boys shall be rewarded, too” said Tarzan; “what would you like most!” “A whole appl® pie,” Doc replied firmly. Dick grinned: “Perhaps, Cousin Tarzan, he would like some excitement. He was saying the other day that he thought Africa was awfully tame!” THE END.

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