Boy's Cinema (1930-31)

6 vou sure you won't chango jour mind?" "Oh, 1 couldn't," slio said. "I really couldn't !'' 'J'liat evening Nick was dining with her in a Broadway restaurant am! call- ing her by her first name ■'This is one of the best places I'se been in, Marie," he declared, while en- joying a cigar after the last course. 1 thought you'd like it, ' Marie told hiin sweetly. Nick iiicliiiea his head. ■■ Not a bad cigar you .sold nie this morning, either,' he mentioned. "Of course, at home I smoke my own brand " This with an airy gesture. "A fellow in Havana makes cm up for me."' "Is that so?" "It is," Nick declared, and tlieli, leaning forward eonhdentiully : "Say, Marie, he went on, "I suppose you know most of the regulars that hang around the hotel, don't you?" "■Well—yes," she answered. "'Why?" "Ever see Hickory Short around? " Nick asked her. "You know, the big gambler." Marie nodded. "He's an awfully' nice fellow," she said. "He's around most of the time." Nick's voice took on an eager note. "You don't, happen to know in which room they're holding the game to-night, do you?" he questioned. "1 just happen to know," was the re- joinder, "but you won't say I told you, will you ? Mr. Short ordered some cigars to be .sent up to his room this afternoon—and it's three-forty-six." "Boy," said Nick, rubbing his hands, "Am I itching to get in that game?" "Oh, ■^Ir. Vcnizelos," Marie went on, concernedly, "I hope you don't think I'm butting in, but—but I'd suggest you put some money in the hotel safe for car fare home—just in case " Nick laughed genially. There won't be any ' in case', baby," he announced, with confidence. "I3ut I'll tell you what I'll do. Hert^—take this hundred dollars and keep it for me. After the game I'll make you a present of it " "Oh, I couldn't " "Keep it, baby," Nick insisted. "And if I should lose—gee, that sound- funny—but if I should lose Well. I'll need that hundred for cigar money." "But you don't know me," Marie protested. " I might run away with the money. You can easily put it in the hotel safe." "You're s.afc enough for mc," Nick declared. "Listen, baby, I'm a gam- bler. It's my business to read human nature—to know people—and I can tell that you're on the level." The girl slipped the hundred dollar bill into her handbag. "Oh, well, if you insist," she mur- mured. The Qame. NICK tapped at the door of Room 346, situated on the floor above his own. He was answered by a tali, lean man with a sharp caste of countenance and a pair of heavy-lidded eyes. "I'd like to see Hickory Short," said Nick prom|)tly. "Well," was the slow, drawling re- joinder, " I'm Hickory Short." "Yeah?" Nick held out his hand. "I'm Nick Vcnizelos of Irontown. Nick the Barber, they call me." Short drow back. "Oh, come in, Mr. '^^enizclos," he said. "I've often ht^iird of you. Of course"—as he closed the door—"you have some way of identifying your- self." September 26th, IftSI. BOY'S CINEMA Nick produced papers and photo- graphs, and, after glancing through them. Hickory Short drew him towards a table at whicli four other men were sitting—a table littered with cards and clups. Boys," said Hickory Short, "I want you to meet Mr. Vcnizelos. Nick, this IS Mr. Tomijkuis " "Honest John Tompkins!" Nick ex- claimed. " And this is Mr. River," Hickory Short continued. "Old Deep River himself, huh?" "And on the other side of the table," Short proceeded, " Back-to-Back Schultz and Mr. Barnes. Say, Nick, how about a drink?" Nick accepted the offer, and Hickory Short poured him out n glass of cham- pagne. "Fizz water, huh?" said Nick, testing it. "Good stuff, too. Whcro'd you get it, Hickory? I'd like a case of it my- self." "Well, I'll send you down a case to- morrow," Hickory Short told him witii a smile. "Maybe I'll be better able to pay for it to-morrow," Nick retorted with a broader smile. "Well, what are we waitin' for? How about a little game of skill and ciiance?" "I've heard of such things," Short drawled. "We're playin' Hve card stud, Nick, and the roof's the limit. Now we're all friends here, Nick, and, though we ain't playin' marbles, we don't want no arguments. Anything ain't right, you just say so." "Right," Nick answered, and then called a waiter who was in attendance. "Bring a dozen new decks of cards," he said. "What's the matter, Nick?" asked Hickory Short. "Ain't the cards we've been usin' good enough for you?" "Oh, sure, it's just an old barber- shop custom," Nick answered wisely. " A fresh towel with every shave—that's my motto. Here, gimmo five thousand dollars' worth of chips." He handed over the money and re- ceived in exchange a number of poker discs, the lowest of which stood for a hundred dollars, and the highest for a thousand. "If you run out of those," observed Barnes, "there's more where they came from." "Brother," Nick retorted, "you'll be buyin' 'em ofl me before the night's over."' Hickory Short laughed. " Well, you're an optimist anyway," ho commented, and the game began. In the small hours of the morning Nick Venizelos was still occupying the chair which had been drawn up for him at tho commencement of play, but the gonial confidence had gone from him and he was no longer the dapper figure that ho had cut on his arrival. He was sitting in his shirt-sleeves, his tic was disarranged and his hair was rumpled, while his face seemed to have become almost haggard. And the pile of chips that had rested at his elbow- had been considerably reduced. Nor were (hose remaining chips the survivors of the first batch he had bought. They were the relics of a second five thousand dollars' worth, pur- chased in the desperate hope that the initial losses wouhl bo retrieved. It looked as if tho goddess of fortune had at last abandoned Nick the Barber Hand after hand was dealt, and Nick's store of chips dwindled. 'The high c.-.rils were ^ot coming his way, but, though the memory of his friends in Irontown was like a spectre haunt- ( Every Tuesday ing his mind, he was not the man to whine. He had struck a bad patch- that was all—and it could not last in- definitely. Nor could his money A hand was dealt to him that looked good for a wager. He had had many such during the course of the evening, and had backed them only to find him- self beaten by a ' spot.' But now or never was his chance, and he resolved to plunge. "I'll call," came the voice of Hickory Short. "Raise you," said Schultz. Barnes, Tompkins and River dropped out of the bidding, but Nick sat tight and played his hand up to the last chip. "A pair of aces," observed Hickory Short, laying down his cards, " with the queen." Nick drew in his breath. "I think I got you. Hickory," he said in a voice that quavered. "Aces too, but with tho king." He leaned forward with the intention of raking in the hoard of chips in the middle of the table, but Schultz antici- pated him with a smile. "Thanks, gentlemen," he stated. " Mine are two jacks and three sixes. I guess that beats the band." Nick seemed to sag in his chair. Said Hickory Short, sitting on his left: " Tho luck's certainly running against you to-night, barber." Nick stood up with an effort and forced a game grin. He was cleaned out, but he knew how to take a.irim- ming. ■' "Oh, it's just a matter of tho breaks," he declared. "Now, don't worry about me, boys. My brother works in the mint." The gamblers laughed at the jest, and their laughter w'as in Nick's ears as ho pulled on his coat and left Room 346 for his own apartment. He was awakened next morning by a splitting headache and a knock on the door. A bell-boy appeared, carrying in one hand a telegram, and in the other a heavy crate. Nick rose and ripped open the tele- gram. "Hope you knocked 'em dead," it ran. "Tlie Gang from Irontown." A kind of g'roan escaped Nick. " ' Knocked 'em dead,' " he muttered, and then, turning, he saw that the bell- boy was waiting for a tip. Nick looked at the crate which the hotel messenger had also brought. When ,, lie opened it, he found that it contained |; the champagne that Hickory Short had promised him; but, far from expressing a friendly sentiment, tho gift seemed to Nick a mockery. For ho remembered his own boast of the previous night that he would be sending a case to Short. In lieu of a tip, Nick gave the bell- boy one of the bottles, and the mes- senger departed jubilantly. Half an hour later Nick took the elevator to tho ground floor and walked over to tho candy and cigar counter, dismally re- flecting that he would want that hundred dollars from Marie after all But the girl he found in attend, there was a dark-eyed brunette. "Where's Marie?" he inquired. "Marie?" the brunette echoed. "Oh, you mean the girl that worked here. I don't know, sir. She left suddenly, I think. I got a call to report here this morning." Nick went away with a dull suspicion in his mind, and, scarcely realising where his steps took him, wandered into a cafeteria .ind dropped into a chaif^. I 5F jauce^ I