Radio Mirror: The Magazine of Radio Romances (Jan-June 1943)

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I can do a few things with a jury that'll surprise him." He was so very sure of himself! I didn't think I liked him much, but I wanted to believe him. If only he could help Mike! — if only there was some way he could set him free again! "Come on," he said. "No harm in trying, is there? If it doesn't work — well, it doesn't work, and your brother's no worse off than he was to begin with." ALL right," I said with a sudden, ■'* buoyant feeling of hope. "All right, Mr. Kenward." "Swell!" he said, laughing. "Now how about going out somewhere for a sandwich and a dance or two, and you can tell me all about yourself and Mike?" My vague distrust of him came back, then, enough to make me say, "No — I'm sorry, but I can't. It's getting late, and I have a letter to write." "Tomorrow night, then." It wasn't a question; it was a smiling statement. "It's got to be sometime soon, you know — there are a lot of questions I've got to ask to prepare the case." He was right, of course. I would have to tell him things, and I should have appreciated his offer to make the conference more pleasant by holding it outside this drab and rather public rooming-house living room. I said, a good deal more pleasantly, "All right — tomorrow." "See you then, about eight. And — you aren't going to be sorry you let me take the case." He nipped his hand at me in mock salute and was gone. And I wasn't sorry, I realized as I went back upstairs. I wouldn't let myself hope that he could really set Mike free — but he was someone to talk to, someone who would understand. It was queer, how certain I was that he'd known real poverty. I even knew that in him there was the same anger that Mike and I had felt. Only in him the anger was controlled. It would never force him to do anything as foolish as Mike's daredevil attempt at robbery. It would make him fight, and go on fighting, until he had everything he wanted. I sat down and wrote my letter to Pop without even stopping to think. It was easy to write now. When I went to bed I fell into an exhausted sleep. Toward morning I dreamed, but not of Mike, nor even of Tom Kenward. I dreamed of Barrett Morgan, and of a summer night that had been nothing more than a dream itself. In the next week, I saw a great deal of Tom. He came around every night, and usually we went out, away from the depressing atmosphere of Mrs. Mecinski's. We never went anywhere very expensive — "A budding lawyer's pocketbook doesn't run to nightclubs," Tom remarked — but at least we were out. I told him about myself, and about Mike, and in return he told me about his own life. I didn't have to be told, really. I'd known that he was born in a slum, and I could almost have guessed that he'd once robbed a store, when he was a boy — just like Mike, with the difference that he hadn't been caught and had decided there were better and less dangerous ways of getting what you wanted. "You aren't shocked," he said when he told me that story. "That's good. You've found out what I did. It's take or be taken, in this world. Or, as the boys in the Solomons say, git or git got." I HAD wondered, and this was a good -■■ chance to ask. "Why haven't you been drafted, Tom?" For a moment, his eyes darkened, and then he forced a laugh. "Because my country didn't see to it when I was a kid that I had enough to eat and enough to wear. I had rheumatic fever and it got my heart. Not too much, but enough." "Oh," I said. "I'm sorry, Tom." He shrugged. "Well — it has its advantages. I'm here, building up a practice, while other fellows my age are in fox-holes." I wasn't repelled by his frankness because I had a feeling it wasn't frankness at all. He was trying to be hard-boiled, but it had hurt him to be rejected by the Army. As casually as I could, I said: "How about Barrett Morgan? Do you know why he isn't drafted?" "Sure — they haven't called him yet because he's got a lot of dependents, a mother and a couple of kid sisters." I opened my eyes wide. "But I thought he was rich!" "Not a dime," Tom said, and he sounded pleased. "The family used to have plenty, but they lost it all when old Mr. Morgan died ten years or so ago." He leaned forward over the JULY RADIO MIRROR On Sale Wednesday, June 9th To help lighten the burden that has been placed upon transportation and handling facilities by the war effort we are scheduling coming issues of RADIO MIRROR to appear upon the newsstands at slightly later dates than heretofore. RADIO MIRROR for July will go on sale Wednesday, June 9. On that date your newsdealer will be glad to supply you with your copy. The same circumstances apply also to subscriptions. While all subscription copies are mailed on time, they may reach you a little later than usual. Please be patient. They will be delivered just as soon as prevailing conditions permit.