Indianapolis Times, Volume 48, Number 60, Indianapolis, Marion County, 20 May 1936 — Page 21

MAY 20, 1936

Today’s Short Story • TOO NICE By Robert J. Bailey

MARTY KELLER braked his roadster to a stop before the small gasoline station’s one and only pump. Ke switched his lights off as the proprietor, a lank figure in willed overalls, came over. “What’ll it be, Mister?” he asked out of habit. “Fill the tank and check the oil,” Marty replied, glancing up and down the dark, deserted highway. “And, say, have you got a phone?” The man nodded toward the office as he took the gas hose down. “You'll find a booth inside. Help yourself.” Marty fished a nickel out of a pocket and headed for the booth. As he stepped inside, he glanced at his watch. The hands pointed to 9 o’clock. Plenty early, he told himself, but that didn’t matter away out here. He dialed a number. For moments he listened to the operator ringing. There was no answer. Marty smiled to himself. He had not expected there would be; he just wanted to make sure. a a a THE operator came in abruptly: “Your party does not answer, sir,” she informed him. “Shall I keep on ringing?” “Id appreciate it if you’d keep ringing, miss," he told her in his most agreeable tone. “I’m quite certain someone is at home and it’s really important that I get this cal through.” “I’ll try again,” the girl returned pleasantly. “Don’t bother, operator,” he replied smoothly. "It’s strange there’s no answer, though. Thank you so much for trying.” “You’re very welcome,” the girl replied sweetly, and her voice told him she meant it. Marty hung up and retrieved his nickel from the return-coin slot. He was smiling broadly as he walked out. He paid the attendant for the gas and oil, giving the fellow a generous tip. In another minute he was speeding down the deserted highway with the car’s motor v r ide open. r. a a FOR several miles he kept up the reckless pace; then, as he passed a crossroad, he slowed down to 40 and kept watching the infrequent side-roads. At last he came to the one he sought but instead of turning off on to it he brought the car to a dead stop on the main road. He cut off the motor and lights. Marty sat there tensely listening. He wanted to be sure no car was approaching for he did not care to have any one see him turn into the side-road. Starting the motor once more, V ,rty cut the wheels and started up tl < road which was hardly more tt n a lane partly smoothed by a la, ir of gravel. He kept his lights off bu managed to make out a sign at th< entrance reading: “PRIVATE ROAD—KEEP OUT.” From then on, more than one officer of the State Police would have given a month's pay to have been able to watch his actions. For months the police had been harried by the press because of their inability to lay their hands on a thief who pillaged wealthy homes in outlying sections. The criminal only entered places which were temporarily uninhabited and unguarded. He ransacked them at his leisure and left no hint as to his possible identity. Always, h.s crimes were not discovered until a week or two later, leaving the police but little to work on a a * CAUTION was Marty Keller’s forte. He worked alone, trusted no one and never stole anything he could not turn into cash quickly and without risk. Marty guided his car carefully along the dark, winding lane for about two miles before he reached his goal. \ pair of tall iron gates barred the entrance to a large, well-cared-for mt. “ set back midst spacious grounds and surrounded by a 10-foot fence topped by barbed wire. Mary cut off the motor and got out of the car carrying a briefcase with him. The gates were locked by a heavy bolt and in addition were Joined by a heavy, padlocked chain. Marty grinned as he took a pair of strong cutters from the case and applied them to the chain. In a minute or so he sheared through a link and the chain fell to the ground. Cutting through the bolt with a hacksaw took a little more time. Presently he swung the gates a Jar and started up the shadowy drive to the darkened mansion in the background. He walked up the wide steps to the long veranda and went to work on the lock of the front door with a flat steel bar. It Anally gave with a sharp rending sound that echoed loudly in the Silence surrounding the place. m a a A BIT of noise caused Marty no A worry. He was two miles from ths highway and It was not

used a great deal, anyway. He shoved the door open with his foot, gripping the briefcase in one hand. The other now held a gun. Inky blackness and dead silence greeted him. But soon his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom. He never used a light of any kind on his expeditions. First he prowled from room to room, cautiously exploring every floor of the house. It took time, but he felt that it paid in the long run. The mansion was fairly large with three floors. The top floor was divided into quarters for the servants. Marty paid scant attention to these. The bedrooms on the middle floor interested him most. He went through closets, wardrobes, dressers, taking everything in the way of jewelery he came across. On one dressing table he found a small box which yielded several rings -and broaches. None of them were worth thousands but he could get several hundred for them safely. At last he had everything worth taking and returned to the main floor. He passed up the silverware and, finding nothing else that interested him, went out the door on to the porch. ana HE PASSED there in the shadows and listened for a time. The silence was still unbroken; nothing moved. A chilling drizzle had started. Marty still gripped the ready gun as he walked down to the gate and got into the car. He was grinning to himself when his foot touched the starter-button. The motor turned but did not catch. He tried again. His smile vanished. Again he pushed down on the button but the motor remained dead. He frowned, fought down the panic that welled up within him. He choked the motor, tried again but still the motor refused to catch. He could smell the gas flooding down into the carburetor as he pumped the accelerator. Cold perspiration beaded his brow. The battery was weakening; he could hear the starting motor fluttering already. He listened to the grind of the flywheel gears—and suddenly he was aware of another sound that was sharp and clear. A twig had cracked loudly in- the surrounding brush. Icy fear turned Marty’s body cold and clammy. There it was again; Someone something was coming toward the car in the darkness. a a a Desperation and wild fear seized Marty. He jerked his gun up and peered searchingly into blackness. There was not sound but the pitter-patter of the increasing rain upon the leaves, yet he knew someone was out there —waiting. “Drop it!” Just those two words rang out abruptly. Marty jerked around crazily and fired twice in the direction of the cold voice. He hardly realized there had been three reports. His eyes went dumbly to his gun-hand. But there was no gun in it now; no feeling; yet he could see where a bullet had ripped through the wrist. Two burly state troopers loomed out of the brush and yanked him out of the car. At State Police Headquarters, later that night, Marty sat bewildered while a police surgeon dressed his wound. Inwardly Marty cursed the troopers. his car, and whoever tipped the police. He gave up trying to figure it out. Presently the captain came in and proceeded to enlighten him. a a a “T UCKY for us.” the Captain JL/ grinned, “you were so nice and insistent to that telephone operator earlier tonight, when you called to make sure no one was home at the Manger Mansion. She says you were so positive someone was at home and so nice about it that she decided the telephone up there must have been out of order.” Marty’s eyes were wide with surprise. but his lips were tense as he listened. “And so.” the officer went on, “she had an emergency repairman sent out there. It was raining when he got to the lane and he was afraid he might get stuck in the mud if he drove in. He hoofed it instead. Naturally it didn’t take him long to see something was up when he spotted the sawed lock and the clipped gatechain. The repairman was no fool, he pulled the distributor cap off your car to make sure you couldn't lam before he got to us. You couldn't’ve started that car in a million years without this. ...” The captain held up the small shell of bakelite. “You know,” he continued chidingly, “I think you were Just a little too nice to that operator, don’t you?" Somehow Marty failed to see the humorous side of the joke. 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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TARZAN AND THE LEOPARD MEN

When the people of Tumbai howled ,'or Orando’s blood, Tarzan raised his hand. “I am Muzimo the spirit,” he pronounced majestically: “I command silenoe.” He turned toward Orando. “What is this accusation against you? What is a Leopard Man? Speak, warrior!”

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

“I will speak!” Orando cried defiantly. “They will kill me anyway, but you, O Muzimo, can fight the terrible Leonpard Men. They are a secret order which compels tribute from peaceful people. We must give them our iron and silver, and fine meal for their food.

With Major Hoople

OUT OUR WAY

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“Their chief place is hidden in the jungle, but there are secret members in every village who kill us if we do not give. Sometimes they kill only to make us afraid. And when they kill, they wear the skin of the leopard and strike with the talons of death! '

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

“No one of us knows *ho among us are the terrible Leopard Menl” While Orando spoke, Sobito hurried among the warriors, whispering into the ear of each. Now he cried out: “We know one Leopard Man among us. It is Orando!” And the warriors howled approval.

COMIC PAQ

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Hamlin

—By Martin