Boy's Cinema (1939-40)

Every Tuesday BOY'S CINEMA Now I understand this cable you sent me In Paris," she said witheringly. *" Everything great. Sales more than doubled. Stay on and have a good time. ... ' " "These sales charts," she said, "show a sudden rise during April, May, and June. I believe that Brewster Products closed their plant during August." Laura studied the charts for several minutes, a frown deepening between her eyes. The evidence seemed to her to be conclusive. She told the girl to put away the books and papers and to ask Harley and Bowman to come in as soon as they returned from lunch. Ten minutes passed, and then the tubby general manager and the self-confident sales manager entered the room together. "Well, what did vou And out. Miss Cran- dall?" asked Bowman eagerly. "Yes, what's the low-down?" chimed in Harlev. "Did vou get the goods on them? " "I'm afraid I got exactly what I went after," she replied, rising to her feet, "and a little bit more." " That's great! " exulted Harley. "What's great about it?" she demanded wrathfully. "The fact that you two are responsible for the whole business? I found out that the original whispering campaign started right here—and it's boomeranged right back at me! " They stood gaping at her, and their silence in itself was a confession of guilt. "Well, why don't you say something?" she raged at them. They could think of nothing useful to say. Bowman fiddled with his hands behind his back; Harley gulped. She opened a drawer and took from it a flimsy sheet of paper. "Now I understand this cable you sent me in Paris," she said witheringly. •" Everj'thing gxeat. Sales more than doubled. Stay on and have a good time. —Harley.'" The cablegram fluttered from her hand. " And I was happy to give you both a bonus!" "I—I assm-e you there was no selfish motive, Laura," stammered Harley. "At the time " "Brewster's would have done the same to us if we'd given them the chance," de- fended Bowman. "That's all I wanted to hear!" she cried. " You're discharged! Please leave!"' Their consternation was almost comic. They slimk out from the room with as little dignity as a couple ol schoolboys caught stealing jam. Laura sank into her chair thoroughly upset, and for a while remained motion- less. Then, with an air of resolution, she put away the cablegram and took the dictaphone record from the drawer in which she had placed it on entering the room. Once more she summoned Bernice, and she wrote on a pad the name and address of Stephan James, at the Acme Advertising Agency, and tore off the slip. "Bernice," she said, "I want you to send this record to this address. Register it and send it by express." The campaign against the Kimball Dairy Company had been started, and whisperers were busy in the suburbs" of Kansas City. Four days after Laura had walked out on Steve her real identity was made know-n to Red Barrett, and he was told about the incriminating record she had taken with her. The two were in Steve's room at the time, and Red was so aghast that he almost collapsed into a chair. "Well, that's a fine state of affairs!" he howled. "I don't understand how you let her get away with it!" Steve waridered over to a window and drununed his fingers upon one of its panes. He was far more disturbed about Laura's opinion of himself than about the evidence she had obtained. "What difference does it make now?" he growled. "It may not make any difference to you," retorted Red, "but it sure does to me! My voice is on that record, too, and I don't want to go to jail!" Steve turned from the window. "There's no danger of that," he said confidently, "if she can ever get the truih out of Harley." "Oh. a lot you know about women!" snorted Red. "They're all vindictive and catty, and she's no different from the rest." "That's what you think." There came a tap at the door, and the girl clerk stepped into the room with a flat package. "This is for you, Mr. James." she said. "It's lust come bv exoress messenger." Steve's face lit up as he took the pack- age and ripped it open. "Well, what did I tell you?" he asked triumphantly, holding up a black disc as the clerk went out and closed the door. Red's eyes bulged in their sockets. "Say, is that the record that she Aw, I bet you it's a phoney!" "We'll soon find out." said Steve, and he led the way into the room that had been Laura's. The deep bottom drawer was wide open, the dictaphone was still inside it. He put the record on the machine and set it going. "Is Higgins satisfied?" asked his own voice from the record. "Is he satisfied?" returred Red's voice with a laugh. " He oughta be—we put Higgins Products on every shelf in this country where Crandall's used to be!" "It seems as though we had half the country whispering against Crandall's and the other half listening." "And that's what I call killing two birds with one stone!" "Well, now that Higgins is off our minds, you can concentrate all your efforts on Kimball's. Get busy!" "Okay, boss!" There w as nothing more—except needle- scratch—and Steve stopped the machine. "Wow!" gasped Red. "There's enough on that record to convict both of us—and yet she sent it back!" He sighed pro- digiously. "Well, you never can tell about a woman!" Steve looked down into the drawer with troubled eyes. "A few months ago," he said bitterly, "we were respected business men. And now ! How would you like the world to judge us by just" what's on that record?" "I can fix that!" Red whisked out the record and broke it to pieces. "Does that make you feel better—or safer?" asked Steve dryly. "Well, safer, anyway." "Safer! We talk like a couple of cheap crooks trying to beat the law—a couple of racketeers—whisperers! Oh. it's not in the cards. Red. We can't keep burying our consciences under a pile of easy money. Jvovember 25tli, l?.39.