Motion Picture (Aug 1940-Jan 1941)

13 an unlucky number? Why, here on Pier 13 Danny had found all kinds of luck — fame, fortune and Sally His shoulders lifted in a shrug. "What Jo you want for a quarter ? Christmas chimes ?" What a dame, he thought. Always trying to make an issue out of something. She should've been at least a lawyer. He finished his coffee and sauntered back to the pier again. Then he spied Al Higgins outside. Al was a plainclothes man, and Danny often wondered how he'd done it. The guy had enough to do figurin' out his left foot from his right, let alone a crime if it should ever come up. But he was a nice fella. "Hello, Al, what're you doing here?" "The Captain got a tip. Johnnie Hale's supposed to be on that boat that's docking now," Al explained. "Johnnie Hale? Who's he?" Al looked around furtively. "The guy [hat blew out of Denver two years ago \\ ith fifty thousand bucks' worth of jewels. Used a police car to make his getaway.'' Danny was shocked. Police car. Gosh, that was a sacrilege. "Know what he looks like ?" Al brought out a picture. "It sure will l»e a feather in my cap if I pick him up." Now the ship was in and the gangplank lowered. Passengers began disembarking and Danny stood there as Al scrutinized each one. Well, seemed like Al wasn't going to 42 get his man. There wasn't anybody there looked like Hale. "So long," Danny said commiseratingly and walked away. Suddenly his eyes focused on a figure. It was a steward carrying a couple of bags. And he was getting into a roadster. Another fellow was at the wheel. Then it clicked in Danny's mind. Say, that steward was Hale. "Hey, you . . ." He sprinted for Hale's roadster and jumped on the running-board. Then his hand shot inside and he tried to turn off the ignition. But a neat clip on the jaw suddenly sent him to the ground right in a puddle of mud. A little dazed, he looked around. Wait, he'd commandeer that auto at the curb. "Hey," he yelled to the occupant, "follow that car." The man cupped his hand to his ear. "Eh?" Danny yelled, "I said follow that car." "What's that ? I'm a little hard of hearing." But, as Danny glared at him, the man said angrily, "I'll report you to headquarters for this . . . jumping all over my car and everything." Danny gave up in disgust. Well, there was nothing to do but report to headquarters, and a little while later he and Al stood in front of the captain's desk. Captain Blake had a pretty sour puss on him as he spoke into the telephone. Evidently, the Commissioner was sivina; him plenty, and when he hung up he turned to Al in a nasty temper. "Air. Higgins," he snorted, "what do vou suppose vou were sent to Pier 13 for ?" Al looked at his feet. "To get Johnnie Hale. But how would I know he was com in' off the boat as a flunky ?" Danny stepped in to defend him. "Al wasn't entirely to blame. Captain. Hale had his cap pulled down over his eyes." The Captain barked, "But you were smart enough to recognize him." "Yeah," Danny grinned and fingered his mudstained trousers. "But look at my uniform." "Don't worry about that." The Captain rose. "You won't be needing it any more. I'm going to promote you. From now on you're a detective." "What !" Danny's pulse did a somersault. "Gee, thanks. Chief." A detective. Boy, what a promotion ! He saluted dazedly and reeled to the door. HE HAD just finished buying a new derby to go with his plain clothes the next morning when he ran into Sally. He smiled, tentatively. "Hello, Duchess." "Oh, it's you." Two dimples came and went. "I didn't recognize you, disguised as a gentleman." He patted his suit. "Pretty nifty, eh?" "Where'syour [Continued on page 58]