Boy's Cinema (1930-31)

Every Tuesday If that >vere his iutciition, he never put it into practice, for at that saiue ujonicnt Farley swaggered towards Sally and laid his hand ou her shoulder Uimiliarly. " Well, well," he said with a leer, "so you're Betty's little daughter. My old friend Betty's little girl—aH grown up and everything." Sally recoiled involuntarily. "Jerry," she said hurriedly, "you'd better try and get in touch with mother by 'phone." Jerry went out of the room, and Sally was attempting to follow him when Farley caught her by the arm. There was an expression on his evil face that made the girl recoil, but the grasp of his hand tightened as she tried to draw- away. ■' Why don't you be a nice little girl an' entertain us until your mother ccmes?" said Farley, baring his teeth in an ugly grin. Standing in the background, .Jim Moore's eyes were blazing like live coals, and suddenly his voice cut across the room: "Farley!" That was all; but the fierceness with which ho spoke expressed a threat as ominous as the gun he carried on his hip, and Farley's hold relaxed. The moment she was free, Sally hurriedly made her escape from the room, and as she disappeared Jim Moore stepped close to his associate. "Still up to your old tricks, eh. Farley?" he snarled. "Well, you lay off this kid! You understand?" Farley looked at him venomously, but held himself in check, reflecting that there would be plenty of opportimities, during the next day or two, of seeing Sally when Moore wasn't around. "Ah, don't get het-up, Jim!" he scoffed. "I didn't mean no harm. Was just tryln' to be affable, see?" The front door of the house opened and slammed before he could say more, and Sally's mother came into the room. As she caught sight of the three crooks she knew that her scheme to have them rounded up at the Blue Moon Cafe had failed completely, but, at the same time, she realised that for Sally's sake they must not be taken prisoner here. "Quick !" she rapped out. "Upstairs 1 Tho police may be coming here!" She had scarcely disposed of her un- welcome guests when she rotcivcd another visitor in tho person of Captain Baxter, and as she saw the wound on his temple her dilemma was for the moment forgotten in her concern for the police chief. "Oh, my dear," she said anxiously, "you're hurt !" "It's just a scratch," Baxter assured her, " and I wouldn't stoji to have it attende<l to iintil 1 knew you were all rifrht. But if you don't mind, I'll co up- stairs and clean up a liil."' She caught his arm swiftly. "No," she gasped. "Let me —take care of it for you." "All right," Baxter agieed. to her relief, and followed her into tho lounge, where she made him sit down \vhil<> sfie fetched water to bathe his in- jury. • "Tell me how it happened," she said, when she had fiiiishe<l dressing the wound. i "Well. I dropped into your J club, and found you were gone," » he explained. "There was a '^■ little trouble, and I got hit with a bottle." Bettina Moore drew in her breath. BOY'S CINEMA "Thank heaven it was no worse!" she said fervently. " You might have been killed." "Not roe!" the captain retorted. "It would take more tlian an empty bottle to finish me. You know," he added with a chuckle, "I'd take a sock on the head every day in the week if I knew you were to De my nurse. If I get another one to-night I'll be back." "You'r-j going now?" Bettina asked him. "Yes," he replied, "I'll have to turn in a report to the district attorney. Thanks, Betty—and—good-night !" He left tho house and drove off •n his car. As he was approaching the gates his headlights picked out a young couple sitting in a leafy bower, and he smiled as he recognised Sally and the new chauffeur. He might not have smiled had l.c been in a pQsitiou to overhear their conversation. "Jerry," Sally was saying, "'I'm simply terrified. Something queer is going on. Mother has been upset all day, and then—those awful-looking men! What are they doing here ? You brought them, Jerry. You know more than you'll admit. Won't you tell mo what it's all about?" "There's nothing I dare tell you," Jerry murmured, "or I would." "Don't you trust me?" she appealed. "Of course I do!" he answered em- phatically. "But I don't know what to do. This mix-up is too serious for a girl like you, and what youvc got to do is to trust me." She lowered her eyes. "I do trust you, Jerry," she told him, "and I'll do anything you say." "All right, then," he declared, with a sudden change of manner, "then you'll marry mc to-morrow, so that I can take you away from all this trouble." Farley was still alive, but it was plain that he was very near the end. Five minutes later Sally led Jerry into tho house and walked through to the loimge, where she foimd her mother. "Mother dear," she announced boldly, "Jerry has .something to tell you." Bettina Moore looked at her new chauffeur inquiringly, and .Jerry cleared his throat. "Yes, Mrs. Mooi'e," he began, "you see. Sully and I have decided to get married. I—I want to take care of her." Sally's mother leaned back in her chair and regarded the young couple in amazement. " What a brilliant idea that is," she observed, as soon as she had found her voice. " "It's too bad tliat it won't work." "Won't work?" Jerry echoed, "That's what I said," Mrs. Mooro rejoined. " You want to take care of Sally on a chauffeur's salary, do you? Why, you couldn't take care of yourself if you didn't get room and board. " A twinkle appeared in Jerry"s eye. He was thinking of his palatial home on the other side of the city. "It's true my salary as a chauffeur is small," ho agreed, "but '- Sally interrupted him. "Mother," she insisted, "I'm in love with Jerry, and I wouldn't care if he j didn't have a nickel. We could get ' along." "Oh, that's nonsense!" Mrs. Moore retorted, and, turning to Jerry : "Young man," she continued, " my daughter lias been raised in luxury, and, no matter how nuich she thinks she cares for you, I have other plans for her." "But " "Let'.s hear no more about this," Mrs. Mooro said with finality. "To-morrow you'll both realise how fooli.sh you aie.". "4 v«v ■^•'^^^^'^■itit, ■ -'^ September lOth, 1931.