Boy's Cinema (1930-31)

Every Tuesday "I—I oan't believe it," Bettina Moore whisijered. "I'm tellin' you the truth," Farley declared. "Jim's alive, Bettina, and it's him and his side-kick that you've gotta shL'Uor. Listen, they've made a big haul, and you and me can make 'em share out for the protection they get—see?" Bettina Moore's lip curled. "Yes, I see," she said scornfully. "You want to make some easy money. Well, you can count mo out. I don't want any of that dirty money. And as for Jim Moore, I wouldn't raise a finger to help him. What did he ever do for me except bring me unhappincss—while I was fool enough to stand by him?" Farley's eyes liardcned, and his ugly mouth tightened viciously. "Supposin' your precious daughter was to find out about her father, though," he snarled. "Supposin' I was to drop i'le hint in certain quarters that one of the guys responsible for this Visalia job was Jim Moore, lawful hus- band of that prominent night club pro- prietress of the same name. Supposin' the newspapers was to blaze it out in the headlines." Bettina Moore leaned weakly against a table. Her features no longer main- tained that expression of fearlessness and resolution with which she bad en- deavoured to confront Farley. The man's cowardly threat Seemed to have overwhelmed her. There was a spell of silence. When ultimately she. spoke, her voice was querulous. "All right, Farley," she said. "I'll do it. You can bring Jim and the other man to the back door of the Blue Moon Night Club at ten o'clock. I'll see them in my office there and come to some arrangements for hiding them out for a few days. But get this and get it straight—if my daughter Sally ever hcar.5 what kind of man her father was, I'll never rest till you and c\ei\ one of your gang are behind Ihe bai^ " "Bettina," Farley told her, "\ou don't have to worry about that " And with an air of supreme <- itisfaction hr strolled out into the hall and kt him«e'f out of the house. The moment the front door had closed behind him, a fig\ire stole out from the folds of a velvet curtain near the en- trance of the lounge. It was the figure of Jerry Coleman, and, approaching Sally's mother, he spoke to her virgently. "Mr.s. Moore," ho said. "I couldn't help hearing part of your conversation just nov/. I thought that fellow sounded thre;i' ening, and so I hun around." Bettina Moore was looking at him dully. "How much — did you liear?" she mur- mured. -"Mo.5t everything," fas the answer, "but our secret's safe wilh r>'.^._ I wouldn't ha\ ;i"..*-hercd to mcntin to you that I'd be( listening, but i thought I might be able to help. If there's anything I can do, you can bank on me." BOY'S CINEMA. The woman studied him for a moment. He had shown the stuff he was made of that very morning, when he tackled Sally's chauffeur, and it _ suddenly occurred to her that he m.ight be a useful ally in a vague plan that had been at the back of her mind during the interview with Farley. "Listen," she said, "I've got an idea, and you can help me in putting it into practice." At the Blue Moon. SHORTLY after a hurried consulta- tion with Jerry, Bettina Moore received a caller in the shape of Captain Baxter, of the San Francisco Police. Captain Baxter was a fine, upstanding figure of a man, and a frequent and popular visitor at the Moore home. "I happened to bo passing, and thought I'd drop in, Bettina," he ex- plained to Sally's mother. "Y'^ou know you're always welcome," Mrs. Moore told him. "Did you want to see me about anything important?" Baxter took her liands in his own. "Yes, Bettina," lie said. "I wanted to ask the old, old question again. When are you going to marry me?" "Did I ever tell you that I would marry you?" was the rejoinder. Baxter gave her a rueful smile. "No," ho admitted, "I've never even been able to get you to promi.se that much. But you'd make me the happiest of men if you would." Bettina Moore frowned. A little while ago she liad been very near to accepting Baxter's proposal, but the news that Farley had brought her had changed her outlook entirely. She was no longer free, as she had imagined her- self to be. She was tied—tied to a man who had long since lost all right to her alTection, a man whom she had believed dead, but who was coming back into her life, unkno^mglj peihap'), to tlmvo bitter memonco "rheic wa-. a time when jou told me that JOU couldn't many so long as Sallv needed a mother'a caie," B ixter told her "But S ill\ is of age nou nid I don't think Im wrong m thinking 13 that I'd be quite acceptable to her as a stepfather. Bettina, won't you give me your answer here and now?" She drew her hands from his grasp and turned away so tliat he could not see the expression on her face. "John," she said, "I like you more than any other man I know, but I can't marry you. Please—please don't ask nic why." She had hardly spoken the words when Sally appeared on the threshold, and, running into the lounge, she kissed Baxter affectionately. "You're almost a stranger, captain," she told him reproachfully. "Why, we haven't seen you for over a week, and usually you manage to look us up at least three times every seven days." "The criminals in this town have been keeping me occupied lately, Sally," Baxter replied. "But I dropped in just now to ask your mother if she would con- sider me as a husband." Sally glanced from one to the other. "I see," she murmured, "and, judging by your face, mother turned you down again." "That's about the hang of it, Sally," Baxter confessed. " What do you think about it?" "Well, captain," the girl returned, "any man worth his salt shouldn't take ' no ' for an answer." Baxter looked at her mother and smiled. "All right," he declared, "I won't. The next time I'm here, Sally, I'll still l)j asking your mother to change her name." He said goodbye, and Sally saluted him comically. When he had gone Bhc. moved across to her mother and slipped an arm around her shoulders. "VN'hy won't you marry Captain Baxter?" she protested. "I know you're fond of him, and I'd just adore him for a father." The rufllanly chauffeur felt a grip on his collar, and, snarling, turned to strike out at Jerry. September lOtli, IMt.