Boy's Cinema (1939-40)

u it myself and I intend to make it a great newspaper—without competition! " Mike picked up a copy of the " Record " that was lying on Cooper's desk. He held it between his finger and thumb as though it were unclean. "Newspaper!" he said. "This!" He oointed at some headlines. "Look at it! 'Secrets of Girl Who Saw Roberts Kid- napping!' A beautiful example of journalism. A young school teacher who happened to see the kidnappers—who. in spite of the danger, had courage enough to tell the police about it. And this is her reward. You plaster her all over the front page of the rottenest rag in town." " I suppose the ' Guardian' wouldn't have done a thing like tliat," remarked Hollis, sneering again. " The ' Guardian' would not," Mike re- torted. "It wouldn't make anyone's life a burden to them just to sell a few more copies. The ' Guardian ' would have " "The 'Guardian'," interrupted Cooper, "is dead." He leaned back, his hands deep in his pockets. "But you haven't anything to worry about, Cassidy. You're a fine newspaperman and I like your work. I'm making room for you on the ' Record'." Hollis nodded agreement. "And you can pick your own spot," he added. Mike glared at them both. "Thank you for nothing! " he snapped. "There's no job for me on the ' Record'— no job of any kind, I wouldn't touch that kind of writing with the end of a barge- pole." And before either Cooper or Hollis could say anything more he slammed out. It was not until he reached the street that he realised the seriousness of things. He was out of work. When the last issues of the "Guardian " were off the machines he was finished. To blazes with Cooper! He wandered down the street feeling depressed. After five minutes' walking he reached a dive which was known as Chase's Bar, and drifted inside. It was a haunt of the city's newspapermen, but at the moment it happened to be empty. He went across to the counter and said: "Vic, Cooper's closing down the ' Guardian.' I want ten empty glasses." The barman looked troubled as he turned to get them. "Gee, Mr. Cassidy," he said, "I guess this isn't your lucky day." "I guess not," Mike answered. "Fill one of those glasses with straight rye, will you? " The barman did so, and Mike drank it down. Then he pulled out his cheque- book and a fountain-pen and began writing, "Those other glasses are for any other member of the ' Guardian' staff who wants to come in and cheer himself up," he said. He tore a cheque from the book and tossed it across the counter. "Cash this, will you. Vic?" "Okay, Mr. Cassidy." The barman turned to the cash register and opened it. He took out a handful of bills and counted out the amount Mike wanted. Then he happened, more from habit than anything else, to glance up. Pinned over the cash register was a list of numbers. Quickly he noted the number of a hundred-dollar bill he held in his hand. He gave a long whistle. "What's the matter?" Mike asked. " Counterfeit? " "Mr, Cassidy," the barman said ex- citedly, "this bill is one of the ransom notefr^you know, the Roberts kidnapping. I've just checked it with the police list." Mike started. The Roberts kidnapping v/as what he had been talking about to Cooper only a short time before. "I couldn't have noticed it when I took it in," the barman went on. "It must have been one of my busy times, and " Quickly Mike reached across the counter and took the bundle of bills from the bar- man's hand. "My money. I think." he said. The barman opened his mouth to pro- November 2.51 ll, 19:il'. BOY'S CINEMA test, then saw what Mike was getting at. He nodded. "That's right, Mr. Cassidy," he replied. "I've cashed your cheque, and it's your money—and your story. I'm glad to be able to do you a good turn." Mike leaned over the counter and grabbed the barman by the shoulder. "Can you keep .your mouth shut, Vic?" he asked tersely. "Yes, sir, I can," the barman replied. "How do I know?" "I always have, Mr. Cassidy." " Right! " Mike eyed him levelly. " Who gave you this hundred-dollar bill?" The barman shook his head. "I don't know," he said. ''I can't think." He put his hand to his head. •■ Gee, I wish I could remember." " Go on trying! " The barman scowled at the ceiling. After a moment or two he snapped his fingers. "Got it!" he\said. "Charlie Daggett gave it to me. He ordered some cham- pagne for a wedding. He's going to be married. I've got the address right here." He pulled out an order book from under the counter and opened it. Mike scribbled down the address. "Who is this Charlie Daggett, anyway?" he asked. 'He owns a small jewellery store, I think. That address, by the way, isn't his. It's the place where I m to send the wine. 'The bride lives there." Mike nodded, and very deliberately folded up the bill and put it into his pocket. Then once more he reached out and grabbed hold of the barman. "Listen, Vic," he said. "I'm a detec- tive, see?" The barman blinked at him uneasily. "Sure, but " he responded. "I'm very tough. I've got a blackjack in mv pocket and a gun under my arm. I've got you in the back-room, cornered up against a wall." Mike changed liis tone. "Now listen, bartender. Do you know a man named Mike Cassidy? " The barman saw what Mike was getting at then. He nodded, grinning. 'Sure I know him," he answered. "Was he in here yesterday?" "Sure." "Did you talk to him?" " Yeah. I said : ' Good-evening, Mr. Cassidy,' and he didn't say nothing. He just set the drinks up, and left a short time afterwards." "Okay." Mike let go of him and straightened himself. "Remember, not a word of this bill to anyone." The barman nodded, and Mike hurried out. He almost ran down the street to where there was a public call-box, and went inside and dialed a number. Presently he heard Davie, the machine- room chief at the " Guardian," on the line. " Listen, Davie." he said rapidly. " I've got one of the Roberts ransom bills, and I'm going to try to track it back to the kidnappers. Now here is what I want you to do. I want you to stay in the machine- room. Keep ali the pages on the machines except page one. You and I. Davie, are going to turn out one more edition of the ' Guardian.' " He heard Davie suck in his breath sharply. "You're mad, Mike," Davie answered. "But I'll be waiting here until you want me." His eyes gleaming, Mike slammed down the receiver and hurried on his way. STATE WITNESS MIKE found that Cooper had left his office for lunch, and went over to his private house. It stood on the out- skirts of the city in its own grounds, and Mike, without ceremony, walked in through some open windows. Cooper glared at him angrily. "What the blazes are you doing here, Cassidy?" he asked. "I've come to ask you to let the ' Guardian' go on publishing," Mike answered. "I've got a story that will sell half a million copies daily for weeks." Every Tuesday "What story?" Cooper askpd. "I've got the fii'st one of the Roberts ransom bills to show up!" Mike showed it, then put it away again. "Now listen. Cooper. I'm going to get fast results on this job. I want you to authorise publica- tion until I track the kidnappers down." Cooper's eyes gleamed. "I've already given you my decision about the 'Guardian,'" he said. "But you've got a great story. Cassidy. Com- plete your inquiries and I'll front-page it in the ' Record.' " Mike laughed shortly. "The ' Record '! " he said. "That sheet is never going to have a story like this." Cooper reached out for the telephone. "It's either the 'Record' or the police, Cassidy," he said sternly. "Refusing to divulge evidence is a felony." " Wliy, vou sanctimonious " "Joe!" A man came running in. Cooper in- dicated Mike. " Hold him. while I phone the police," he ordered. Mike felt his arms grabbed from behind Cooper sat on the corner of his writing table and picked up the phone. " I'll give you one more chance." he said to Mike. "How did you get hold of that bill?" 'I found it in an Easter egg," Mike re- torted, and at the same moment stuck one leg out behind him and swung side- ways. The man who was holding him was taken completely unawares, and took a header into a nearby armchair. Before he could recover Mike turned and run. He got clear of Cooper's house, then slowed down to think. The first thing he ought to do was to interview the jeweller, Charlie Daggett—the man who had cashed the bill with the barman. But before he did that, he felt that he ought to have a talk with the girl who had seen the kidnaopers. There was a reason for that. When Mike had tracked the bill back to the kid- nappers, he would need the girl to identify them. He wanted to make quite sure that when he did rush the story into print there would be no mistake. He couldn't afford to make a fool of himself. The girl worked at a place called Miss Brendan's School for Girls. She was a teacher there. Mike went straight to the school, but found that it was surrounded by police. He knew why. The girl—her name was Ellen Frazier—was being guaided on the grounds that she was an important State witness. When Mike reached the school he found that it was having a lot of visitors. A number of elderly women were going in through the front door. Mike took a chance and joined them. Just as he reached the door a cop glared at him and said: "Well, what do you want?" Mike did some quick thinking, trying to find something to say which would get him inside. But before he could find an adequate excuse a police lieutenant came across the hall. "Mr. More?" he said to Mike. Mike blinked at him in astonishment. "That's right," he managed to say. "Go right on in. Mr. More," the police lieutenant went on. "The ladies are ex- pecting you." Mike took a deep breath and hurried past him. He found himself in a large hall where the women visitors were gathering. Apparently it was a meeting of the school trustees. Mike sat on the edge of a chair and listened to what was said. Presently he was able to make out which of the teachers on the platform was Ellen Frazier. She was dark and pretty, but her eyes were filled with mingled irritation and fear. Mike edged his way over to her when the meeting was finished and said: " Hallo, Miss Frazier, I've been wanting to meet you." "So many people have been wanting to