Boy's Cinema (1939-40)

i Every Tuesday In that grim institution, with its build- ings of brick and concrete, lie exclumged his name for a number, and at worlc and at leisure he mingled with malefactors, and he shared a cell with an ugly, fat- faced fellow who was a hardened criminal. For two years he bore his punishment •with stoic calm and endured the un- pleasant companionship of "Smitty "—as his cell-mate called himself—and he was wise enough not to antagonise the other convicts by holding himself too aloof in the yards and workshops and mess-hall. On the second anniversary of his in- carceration he was loft alone in his cell for a while because Smitty had reported sick and had been taken to hospital. But there was nothing whatever the matter with the crook, and the guard who had taken him to the prison hospital brought him back in a temper, sent him flounder- ing upon a bunk suspended from the wall on chains, closed the self-locking door of bars, and roared at the malingerer: "Now get this. Smitty, the next time you pull that phoney gag on me " "I had pains in my head," wailed the convict. "You'll have worse than that. Instead of taking you to hospital I'll have you tossed into solitary. You haven't got brains enough to get a headache! " Having delivered this threat, the guard stalked off along the iron gallery. Smitty sprawled on the bunk and shook an impotent fist. "One o' these days there's gonna be one guard less." he bleated, "if I " He broke off because Steve was laughing on an adjacent stool. "What's so funny?" "You are." Steve infoi'med him. "You and that pipe-dream of yours. So you had it all figured out to spend a nice quiet week in a soft bed in the hospital—and hei'e you are." " Aw, you make me sick! " Smitty was stung to revelations. "Listen, pal, you've been laughin' at me for two years. You think I'm a nitwit. Well, this time yer got another think comin'. I didn't pull that gag just to get a soft bed—not by a long shot!" "Okay, Smitty," drawled Steve, "spill it. What've you been up to now?" The convict rolled over on to an elbow and leaned nearer. "We're makin' a break to-morrow," he confided, "at the ball game. You're in." "What?" Steve sounded incredulous. "There's thirty of us—and we've got everything it takes." "What do you mean by that?" Smitty leaned nearer still. "Look, you go to the hospital. Before they examine you you gotta take a shower. What d'you think's wrapped up in the., towel? " "A rod." suggested Steve. "Two of 'em. One for me and one for you." "Where are they now?" "Not so fast. 'What I wanna know is Approaching footsteps put an end to speech. Another guard looked into the cell. "You're wanted in the visitors'-room, Eight-two-nine-five," he said. Steve jumped up off the stool and the guard signalled with his hand over the rail of the galJery to a guard at a desk down on the ground floor of the cell- house. A button on the desk was pressed and the door of bars slid open. "Who is it, do you know?" asked Steve as he stepped forth on to the gallery. " How do I know?" rasped his guide. "Come on." It was Red Barrett who awaited Steve on one of a long row of chairs in the visitors'-room. Steve was conducted to a chair facing him, but between the two was a screen of steel mesh that separated all convicts from their relatives and friends. "Hallo, Red," said Steve. "How are you? " " Fine," was the reply. " You? " " Oh. I suppose I could be worse! How's everything? " BOY'S CINEMA "Great! Say, I've been working like a dog. We've got Crandall's ahnost back to its old peak. Those formulas of yours turned out to be world-boaters." "I'm mighty glad to hear it," declared Steve fervently. " How's — er — Miss Crandall?" "In the best of health and as lovely as ever," Red assured him. "She wanted to come, but^well, I explained to her that I didn't think you'd feel so good to have her see you in fancy dress." " Thanks. Red. Sav ' liallo ' for me." " You bet I will! " ' There was a little awkward silence, and then Red said gruffly : "I suppose you're counting tlie days till you get out, eh? Well, so are we. How much longer do you figure it'll be—with time off for good behaviour?" Steve shrugged. "It all depends if I can keep out of trouble in this place," he gritted. "Is there anything I can do for you?" "Yea'n, keep your fingers crossed." Smitty was still on his bunk when Steve was taken to the cell, and as soon as the guard had disappeared the interrupted conversation was resumed. " It's all set for the ball game, like I told you," Smitty said. "The ball game?" Steve made a gesture of disapproval. "That means visitors— and double guards." " That's what we're countin' on," re- turned the convict with an evil grin. " And we got thirty rods to do it with! " "Thirty?" echoed Steve in amazement. "How'd you get them in?" "Never mind—we got 'em. At the end o' the first innings all of us grab a visitor and fade for the gate." "But there are four guards on the main gate." "Yeah, but they ain't gonna start blastin'—with us inside a ring o' big- shots. " So that was it. At the annual baseball match between rival teams of convicts. 11 visitors were to be u.sed as human shields in a desperate attempt at jail-break. "Listen, Smitty," said Steve seriously. " I used to be an advertising man. and con- sidered pretty good. I never .staited a campaign unless I figured I could handle it. If it was too big I wouldn't have any- thing to do with it." Smitty looked as perplexed as he felt. " But this ain't got nuthin' to do with that," he muttered. "It's got everything to do with it. Hav--; you ever figured out how many jail- breaks succeed?" "Plenty." asserted Smltt.y. "Yeah? Name them." "Look at San Quentin—last vear." "Wasn't that a i)ip? Nine of 'em tried it and one got as far as a box-car ani they killed him there." "Oh, but—but they didn't do it right! Thirty of us is breakin'." "Yeah," iiodded Steve, "that's all the more for the guards to shoot at when you're trying to mingle with the visitois You see, you've got a weak spot—it's no good! " Smitty screwed up his ugly face, but was not to be dissuaded. "You can't make no break without takin' some chances," he growled. "Okay, say some of you did get away. You leave a lot of dead visitors behind. Do you think anybody on the outside is going to give you a hand? Why, they'll shoot you down like you're mad dogs! " ."If you're scared you can stay out of it," snapped Smitty. "It isn't a question of being scared, pal. It's a question of common sense. Now. listen, with good behaviour vou'll be out iri six months, and with good behaviour I'll be out in nine. So why take a chance?" Smitty sat upright on his bunk. " One time I had only two weeks to go." he said scornfully, "and somethin' went That's what we're countin' on," returned the convict with an evil grin. *• And we'.ve got thirty rods to do it with ! " November 26th, 193D.