Boy's Cinema (1930-31)

Record Details:

Something wrong or inaccurate about this page? Let us Know!

Thanks for helping us continually improve the quality of the Lantern search engine for all of our users! We have millions of scanned pages, so user reports are incredibly helpful for us to identify places where we can improve and update the metadata.

Please describe the issue below, and click "Submit" to send your comments to our team! If you'd prefer, you can also send us an email to with your comments.

We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.

Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.

BOY'S CINEMA ;3 Every Tuesday There was not a man who could beat him at gambling. He became famous for his luck at cards and at last the law went after him. They framed a girl to betray him. A croob drama that is one long thrill from start to finish. Starring Edward G. Robinson and Evalyn Knapp. NICK VENTZEIX)S, of Irontown, lounged behind the counter of his hair-dressing saloon. His assistants were busy with razor and scissor?, shear- ing hail' and whiskers and conversing with the oiistomors as they did so. Nick toyed with a dice-box. and for his own amusement rolled forth the little cubes colloquially known as "the bones." He was of Greek parentage, Nick, but hundred per cent American for all that, and a personality in the Binall Middle-Western township. A newly-shaven customer rose from the chair wherein he hud sat while Jack, Nick's chief assistant, had re- moved the stubble from his chin. He came over to the counter and handed Nick a check and a coin. Nick lifted the coin and grinned at his dieivt. * "Aha," he said, "double or nothing, Joe?" "Not me," the cu.-tomer rejoined. "Oimmo my change. I've paid you double too many times, Nick." Nick's grin broadened, and into his eyes came the glint of the gambling lure. It bad ever been so with Nick Venizelas. Dimes, nickels and dollars- dice, i)onies and card-decks—the very sight of them roused in him the urge to take a chance, and the fact that his small bu3ine>3 was one of the most flourishing of its kind in Irontown was a testimonial to his good fortune. "' P'aiiit heart never won fair lady or fat turkey,' Joe," he <'Oaxed. "Como on, what do you .'•ay—iieads or tails?" And he spun the coin deftly and clapped it on the back of his hand. "Oh, well—tail*!'' the customer .Tiut- tered, and then, as Nick uncovered the coin, gave a rueful laugh. "Heads." Nick observed, "Better luck next time, Joe." "I never seen such a lucky stiff," his customer grumbled on his way to the door. Nick slipped the coin in the till and came round the counter to where his assistants were operating on the last two customers. "Well,'* he declared, "I guess we've got enough money to close up!" He paused, and looked hard at the neckwear of Jack. "Say, that's one o' my ties, ain't it?" he challenged. Jack shared a room with Nick, and had a Iiabit of borrowing certain items of attire which happened to apiieal to him. "Why—pr—when I got up this morn- jn'."-Tie stammered. "1 .sort of—ev " "Yeah, I know." Nick put in sarcas- tically. " Wliy didn't you put oti my new check suit while you were about it?" "It didn't fit," answered Jack, where- upon both of them burst out laughiny;. They were more like brothers than employer and assistant, and Nick ha<l entirely recovered his good-nature and wii.s claiij)ing Jack on the shoulder when one of the last two customers spoke to him. ■'Hey, Nick." he asked, "what do you fancy in the final race at Louisville?" "Why, I got my dough on Abio Kabibbie." Nick rejoined complacently. "Think he'll win?" Nick smiled. "Sure he'll win," he said. "If nothing else, he'll win by a nose." When Nick si)oke of shutting up shop he meant that business wa.s over for the day. but nevertheless the premises con- tinued to witness the passuig of money, and the innte walls to hear the clink ol coin and the crisp rustle of notes. Nick collected dimes and dollai'S dur- ing the day behind the counter. Of nights, he collo-ted them in a discreet back room, raking thetn across a long gaming table as he matched his luck successfully against the luck of a num- ber of cronies. To that back room Nick now made his way, and presently men began to drop in on him and stand around the table—men of a sixirtive persuasion, nilliiig to risk a dollar or two on the goddess Chance. By dusk, some eight or nine men. were gathcrcHl for tho "play," and the number was brought up to a dozen by the appearance of Jack and the other a.ssistant, a swarthy Greek known as Mitros Bikelas. "I'm looking for action to-night, Nick." someone said, speaking through the buzz of conversation and the haze of tobacco smoke which by this time filled the room. "Don't worry, boy," Nick retorted with a grin, "you'll get it." The dice rattled in the little box, and play began. A dozen i)airs of ej'es watched the white cubes with the black dots roll forth npon the table as throw after throw was made. Small bets were placed, and coin and small bills were soon changing hands—their destination generally tendinjr towards that part of tho table where Nick Venizelos stood. Dark and dapper, smiling the smile that rarely seemed to leave his queer, twisted ir.ouch. Nick gathered in the little piles of money with monotonous regularity, and he had just taken a ten- dollar bet when a darkie entered the room, his ebony face shining like a new shoo, "Hallo, ,^nakc Eve>!" Nick greeted September 2GtU, 1931.