Boy's Cinema (1930-31)

12 "Oh, all liglit, " Sally rnurmiirctl, "I won't ask again, mother. You know I wouldn't go to any place you didn't want nic to. Good-bye," she added cheerfully, pulling on a close-fitting hat. "I'll be ill for lunch." She made her way to the hall and let herself out of the house. The chauf- feur was waiting for her in the drive, and cauglit sight of her as he was taking a pull at a flask of bootleg liquor, which he quickly returned to his pocket. Sally climbed into the car, and the chauffeur took his place at the wheel. They picked up the ]\Ionterey road in the hills, and had been driving for a "little less than half an hour when Sally felt something steal about her shoulders. She looked round swiftly, and saw • that it was the chauffeur's arm. She could only stare at him in amazement for a moment, then with an indignant exclamation she pulled free. "How dare you?" the cried. "Have yon gone mad?" He grinned at her insolentl.v. "Aw, don't be sore, girlie," he coaxed. "A little pettin' never harmed any- body." And he slipjped his arm around her again. Sally became convinced that tlie man bad been drinking. "Stop the car!" she ordered fiercely, but ho only drew her closer. She began to struggle, thoroughly alarmed now. But the chauffeur did not release her, nor did he take his foot from the accelerator, and tlio car swayed from side to side of a road that was flanked by a lofty embankment on the one hand and by a cliff fifty feet in depth on the other. Meanwhile, about half a mile to the rear, another lautomobile was travel- ling in the same direction at a high speed. It was Jerry Coleman's road- ster, and with the speedometer regis- tering seventy-five on a serpentine road Jerry was fairly enjoying the terror of his passenger. "Mr. Jerry," Fcrgie howled, "Mr. Jerry, I can't stand it! My nerves, sir —oh, my poor nerves!" The ear flashed round a bend, its wheels showering dust into the ravine below. Fergie shut his eyes tightl.v as ho glimpsed the fifty-foot drop, and littered a prolonged wail. But Jerry was no longer heedin';; him. Ho was now in sight of the auto in which Sally Moore was travelling. and as he saw it zigzagging along the road his gaze became riveted pn it. He was soon close behind the other oar, and it did not take him long to realise what was wrong. At the first opportunity ho pulled level with the chaufTcur-driven auto, and then, setting the throttle, called to Fcrgie to take tho wheel. "The wheel!" screeched the valet. "B-but I don't know anything about oars. Oh, Mister Jerry!" This in an agonised yell as Jerry abandoned the steering, clambered over the side and le^ipt into Sally Moore's roadster. Tho ruffianly chauffeur felt a grip on his collar, and, snarling, turned to strike out at Jerry. But the young man-about-town blocked the punch, and, dragging the fellow into the back of the car, battered his mercilessly ere finally tumbling him out on to the road. Sally had had the presence of mind fo take the wheel, and she brought the automobile to a standstill. Jerr.y in- stantly sprang from the car and sprinted to where the chauffeur was struggling 1o his feet. As he ran ho realised that his own car was no longer in view, and imagined that Fcrgie had succeeded tn drawing up. But for an intervening turn in the September loth, 1981. BOY^ CINEMA road he might have seen the panic- stricken Fergie clinging to the steering- wheel like a limpet while tho auto took a wild plunge over tlie fifty-foot slope to the right of the road. Jerry came within striking distance of the chauffeur as the latter put himself in a posture of defence. But the man's guard failed to stop a stiff left to the mouth, and ho was staggering back with blood on his lips when a. smashing right- hander rolled him in tho dust. He lay vvitli one arm over his face in a cowardly attitude of surrender, and, his lip curl- ing in contempt, .Jerry made his way back to where Sally had pulled up. "Oh, I—I don't know how to thank you," she said. "That's all riglit," Jerry told her with a grin, brushing his yachting cap on his sleeve as he spoke. " You see, I " A scream from the girl arrested him, and, as he saw her point along the road, ha whipped round and caught sight rf the chauffeur moving towards him with a heavy piece of rock in his hand. His fists bunched, Jerry started forward to meet him, but the rogue took fright, dropped the rock and showed his heels. Jerry turned to tho girl again. She was .smiling now. "You certainly showed him where he got off," she said, and then, growing serious all at once. "But what about your master?" she went on. "He looked almost beside himself when you jumped out of his car to save me. He—he'll pro- bably fire you, won't he?" It took Jerry only a moment to realise that she had mistaken his yachting cap for a chauffeur's, but with an impulsive- ness characteristic of him ho decided not to enlighten her. "Oh, yes," he murmured, "my em- ployer. 'Well, I didn't care for the job much, anyway, and I daresay I'll be able to get another one." "You don't have to look any farther," Sally told him. "Mother and I will bo needing another chauffeur now. You can drive nno home, if you like, and I'll recommend you right away." The idea of keeping up the deception appealed to Jerry hugely, particularly as it would give him the opportunity of furthering his acquaintance with some- one so attractive. So that afternoon, following san interview with Sally's mother, .he returned home to don a chauffeur's uniform which he purchased at an outfitter's in the city. He was studying his reflection in n mirror when the door of his room opened and a forlorn, battered figure appeared. It was tho figure of Fergie. wearing a burst auto-tyre round his neck and carry- ing a broken steering-wheel in his hand. "Your car, sir," ho said bitterly. Jerry laughed, and slapped him en the shoulder, a lusty gesture that brought a yelp from the valet. "Fergie," he declared, "I'm through with driving my own car. I'm going to chauffeur for tho prettiest girl in tlie world. And you, Fcrgie—you can take a holiday." "I need one, sir," the valet groaned. "In a sanatorium " An Echo of the Past. A BANK robbery was staged In Visalia, two or three hundred miles to tho south-east of San Francisco. Three raiders figured in the hold-up, but as they piled into a car with their booty a town-marshal ond a couple of deputies appeared on the scene, and one of tho bandits was left in a heap by the roadside, sliot dead. Two hours later Bettina Moore's maid, Lena, announced a caller by tho name of Every Tuesday Farley, a name that seemed to draw something of the colour from her mis- tress's face. "Show him in," she said, after a moment's hesitation. Joe Farley crossed the hall and entered tlio lounge even as Jerry Cole- man, spick and span in sky-Uuc uni- form, descended a flight of stairs from his room on the top floor, to which ho had been conducted a little while pre- viousK'. Farley did not notice the young gentleman-chauffeur. He was too eager to consult Bettina Mciore to pay much heed to the household's staff of servants. Rising from a chesterfield, Bettina Moore regarded Farley coldly. A thick- set man with a nose that had been broken at some stage in his chequered career, he looked out of place in that sumptuous room.' "You've got your nerve, Farley," Bettina said, "coming here like this." Farley chewed tho stump of a cigar. "Aw. that's no way to talk," he told her, in a tone of smug reproach. "I can remember a time when you wasn't so i>articular about what kind o' visitors you had." "Farley," Bettina Moore answered bitterly, " that's a time I want to forget. It wasn't b.v any choice of mine tliat I mixed with a bunch of dirty crooks like yourself. And it wasn't through my in- fluence that the man I married turned gangster. You were responsible for that, Farley—you rat!" "Say, them's hard words, Bettina," Joe Farley protested, "an' I didn't come here to start any unpleasantness. I came^ to ask you a favour, for the sake of the old days before you bust into society as proprietress of the Blue Moon Night Club." Bettina !Moore laughed mirthlessly. "A favour?" she reiterated. "And you think I'm likely to do you one?" "You'll do this one," Farley rejoined. "Listen, three friends of mine raided a bank this forenoon in Visalia. I've just had word that one of them got bumped off, but the other two are headed this way and they want me to hide 'em out. That's where you come in, Bettina. No- body knows your record, and you're a personal friend of Baxter, captain of the police. These guys I'm tcUin' you about would be safe with you " "So that's the idea," Bettina Moore interrupted. "I'm to hide a couple c.f your crook friends for you. Well, I won't do it. Understand? You and your talk of the old days. What do they mean to me? Do you think I'd jeopar- dise my daughter's happiness by letting her know that her father was a— criminal?" Farley blew a cloud of cigar-smoke towards the ceiling. "I'm glad you mentioned that," ho mused. "You see, Bettina, 1 was goin' on to tell you that one of these fellows who pulled off the Visalia bank robbery is Jim !Moorc." If he had struck her the effect could not have been more staggering than that which those words produced. For a moment she seemed unable to speak, and then: "You're lying," she said. "It's at cruel lie! Jim died ten years ago, five" years after I cut loose from him and told him I never wanted to seo hini again." Farley shook his hoad. "You're wrong," ho answered. "Ho was reported dead all right. But not long ago I learned the truth. Ten years ago Jim Moore was nailed in Oregon for killin' a night-watchman, but he wa« convicted under another name.'i