Boy's Cinema (1939-40)

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Every Tuesday "That's the Chrysler HiiildinK —tliat very tall one," she pointed. " Yes," said liniiiiv. "And that's the l{o-kefeller Centre down tliere " "Of course," said Brniny. "And down there " " Kifth Avenue." li(< coMipleted for her. "Yes." She looked iit liini in surpiise. "Do I happen to he wu.slinjj my time? You sound like you were born on Forty-second Street and Broadway. You really are new in these parts, aren't you, straiiKer?" "All evcept the honii'woik," he assured her. "Can you l)eliev<> ilnii I've rc^ad hooks on New York, and studied every piel\ire of the t>laco that I could Ihid?" "Nolhiug: like being pri'iiarrd for the Convent ion trip !" "Well, I ahvay.^ knew I'd come to New York after R-raduai ion, you .<ee. It's the bip: place—it's like the Rold ru^h. Strike it rich and you're in." "Sounds wonderful—if v.ven million other people don't beat you to it." she commented. "They tell me coinpeiition is rather brisk." " I'll pret alonsi." She liked the look of him; she liked his breezy nnunier. bul his conceit she did not like. She tilted her head at him ami she said r>ointedly : "I don't want to di.courage yo>i, if that's possible " "Oh. now, do I sound tlmj had?" he broke in. "Just slightly optimistic." "It's because things break rierht for me." he explained wifli a l>ovi~h (rriii. "I don't know—I can't explain it. Maybe it's like holes opening up for nie in the line " "So you can run through for the touch- downs ?" "Yeah. You know, tlu-y wanted to nick- name me ' Lucky.' but the coach wo\ddn't stand for it. ' There's only one Lucky around this place.' he said, 'and that's Lucky lliprgins,' Your dad !" Luckv Hiffgins was on a couch in the private sitting-room, with Bronson's right arm round his neck and a cigar in his right hand. \Vell charged tumblers were in their left hands, their heads were close together, and they were doing their best to sing the college song. Facing them in a chair was Edgar Arthur Dow, beating time with his left hand and holding an equally well-charged timibler in the other one. ". . . So let's drink once more To the days of yore; Drink it down to old McKinley !" Mr. Dow drank as enthusiastically as the two McKinley men, and then Dutch Bronson said reproachfully : "Coldarn you. Lucky, we thought you'd passed out of the picture ! All the other boys liave been dropping in occasionally— mostly on sales trips —but never a peep out of you I Know what I ought to do?" The question was addressed to Mr. Dow. " " I ought to toss him out of tlic window !" Uncle Frank murmured that sometimes a man nuist choose between a career and the college spirit —a remark which pleased Mr. Dow, because he was acquainted with all the circumstances. But the coach took the remark more literally. "Oh, you don't have to tell me." he said. "You've really gone places and become one of those big Park Avenue guys. I knew you'd do it ! Y'ou turned down tlie job as ifssistant coach—remember? Said it wasn't good enough—you were going out after tlie big stakes." Uncle Frank winced. b\it only !Mr. Dow noticed it, and he raised his dark brows. "You turned down a coach's job? Oh. my !" " Some of the boys thought you were pretty cocky—trying to bite off too much," recalled Bronson. "You got the job?" asked Uncle Frank. "Y'es; and three years later old Peters died atid they made me head coach, and there I've been ever since." "You've been doing all right, too." "Oh. not bad. with articles and radio talks thrown in." Bronson took another gulp at BOY'S CINEMA " But you don't care If they And out now," protested Sylvia. " Come on, let's go to the match " his drink. "We've got a stadium out there that seats forty thousand people." "No!" exclaimed Uncle Frank. "So help me! But there, I suppose this coaching business looks like a hill of beans to you. How right you were not to waste your time on a little one-horse school out in Texas. It was mighty nice of you to meet us to-day." "Not at all, Dutch, not at all." There came a rap at the door and Abbott entered the room. "Sorry to bust in on you fellows." he apologised, "but, coach, will you tell that prima donna to lay off the Texas Glory stuff?" "Who, Brainy?" asked Bronson. " Y'eah. I've been trying to get some favourable t)ublicity for the team, and he keeps getting in the sports writers' hair." "Listen." defended Bronson, "he's one of the swe(>test quarter backs that ever " "Oh, I know—I know!" Abbott flipped a hand. " But this isn't Pudunk, this is New Y'ork. The place is crawling with big-shots, when in walks this kid with straw in his hair, and—well, figure it out !" Bronson admitted that Brainy might give people a false impression aiul promise<l to speak to him. Abbott expressed his gratitude and departed. "Isn't he a nice boy, Mr. Bron.son?" inquired Dew. "Nice as they come." declared the coach; "clean and honest. It's just like. I was try- ing to tell you. Lucky, about the old days. Remember us—big campus heroes—lots of confidence? Somehow- we felt as though we owned the whole world. And that's Brainy all over, nineteen forty model. Well, come on, how about another little driidj to the old 'Varsity?" Mr. Dow pressed a bell to siunmon a waiter, but Uncle Frank Avas concerned about Brainy, who sounded far too like he himself had been in his own younger days. He asked why someone didn't talk seriously to the foot- baller. "Aw, he'll grow up," said the coach. "They all do. Foiget it." Abbott came Uf»on the good-looking su'iject of discussion in the lounge, talking to Sylvia. "I'm glad some of you are enjoying life," he tokl them. "Miss Higgins, I'm in a jam. It's that shindig to-morrow night. All the boys want dates—as many as you can gel. Oh, I hate to impose on you, but " "Feminine society?" Sylvia looked astounded. "But aren't there training; rules ?" "Aw. come on, be a sport." iwged Brainy. "The boys want companionship at the diimer. If you're a sample of this year's crop of debutantes they'll want to see the rest. Be- sides, woiddn't 3 ou like .some of your sex to be there as w<'ll as yourself?" "Uhuh!" Sylvia turned to Abbott. "All right," she said, "it won't be any trouble at all—none whatsoever. There isn't nuich time, so I'd better be running along. Good-bye." Abbott said good-bye, but as she turned away Brainy called her back—by her Christian name. Abbott cocked his head like a bird. Sylvia eyed the impetuous young man severely. "I—well—you see," stammered Brainy. " ' M-Miss Higgins' does sound pretty formal." " ' Sylvia's ' shorter, too," said Sylvia. "I didn't mean that exactly. W-what I wanted to say was—er—don't bother to get me a girl." "1 won't," she assured him icily. "Good- bye." She sailed away, pursued by Billy, and the crestfallen expression on Brainy's face de- lighted Abbott. "What's the matter, big fellow, off jour stride ?" he jeered. "Huh?" " Looks bad. I think she's throwiijg you for a loss!" In the private sitting-room. Sylvia learned fiom her luicle that her employer had gone back to his office, and she followed him there with Billy, wlio wanted to see what a stock- broker's oflfice was like. The boy sneaked itito Mr. Dow's room with her, when she entered it. and he became fasciiuited by a tape machine. Sylvia ex- plained about the girls that were wanted for the "shindig.'' "Utnted States Steel is fifty-two and a half." Billy aui-isunced from the tape machine. " Why bother me r" asked IMr. Dow. Feljriiary lOtli, 1940.