Newspaper Page Text
A\
\ V
II
v\
t*
! BOMBS /5VGRANVILLE BURST ONCE *4**44+ j
' / CHURCH V,
W.N.U. SERVICE
CHAPTER II
Don’t come! And here he was with
Lee in the curve of his arm, Buddy
and Chuck tugging at his trousers,
with Tierra Libre rising up out of
the morning sea, the buildings of
Cabeza de Negro taking shape. His
arm unconsciously tightened about
Lee.
Long before they drew close
enough to make out details of the
sturdy new docks and receiving
sheds they saw the motor launch
cutting along the coast as though
to intercept them. It, too, was head
ed for the port, and at last Curt
recognized the figure standing in the
cockpit. it
He yanked off his hat to wave
wildly. muckle-head,”
“Jerry, you old he
shouted. “I might’ve known you’d
come down to meet us.”
“Yeh, got your wireless you were
coming through Cabeza. Hiya,
Curt. Hiya, Lee,” called the stocky
man in the launch. “It’s good to
see you folks again. Where’re the
kids?”
Curt and Lee each picked up a
child and stood him on the broad
rail. Buddy, from his new vantage
point, piped up: “Mummy, what’s
a muckle-head?”
“A muckle-head, darling,” she an
swered gravely, “is your Uncle Jer
ry down in the little boat. See?”
“My Uncle Jerry, Mummy? Have
I got a Uncle Jerry?”
“Yes, dear. Wave to him.”
There was no opportunity for dal
lying here. The launch drew away
and by the time the Pisces warped
up to the dock Jerry Mclnnis—leath
ered face, close-cropped hair,
weather-stained clothes—was wait
ing for them.
A dockhand delivered a message
from Senor Montaya on a company
briefhead. The senor had been de
layed in getting down river to meet
them but would reach Cabeza in
another hour or so.
Curt lifted his eyes, glancing
about for a radio shack.
“Right,” grinned Mclnnis. “No
halfway measures here. They’ve as
good a wireless set-up as we have,
though apparently for their own use.
I mean, they’re not entering into
commercial competition with us.”
“Cheapest communication for
them, I suppose.”
“Sure, you know yourself a tele
phone line across these marshes
would be out of the question; it’d
have to be re-strung after every
flood. They have a line now from
Tempujo on to San Alejo—Tempu
jo’s their upriver port across from
our Riverbend Junction. Before that
they used radio, as they do at Ca
beza now. And is their San Alejo
station a darb! More powerful than
ours at Soledad. Talk with Europe,
Asia, anywhere.”
“That one of their river boats?"
“Yep. They have two. But we
can talk later, Curt.” He scooped
up the children, one in each arm.
“Let’s find a more comfortable spot
for the wait. Lee, you’re looking
great! If I didn’t know better I’d
guess you were twenty. Hard to
believe these are yours. Marta
sends her love and can’t wait to
see you.” from
Mclnnis, chuckling, nodded
Curt’s piled luggage to his own
launch boy, and the mestizo imme
diately took possession to stand
guard. Then the Associated man
led the way from the dock to the
one main street of the town. There
were signs of recent construction.
The new company was booming the
BLAKELY THEATRE
Thursday-Friday, Oct. 1-2
ANN SHERIDAN—ROBERT CUMMINGS in
“KING’S ROW”
Saturday, October 3
DON “RED” BARRY in
“DESERT BANDIT”
Saturday Late Show 10:30
JOAN DAVIS—JINX FALKENBURG in
“SWEETHEART OF THE FLEET”
Monday-Tuesday, Oct. 5-6
BOB HOPE—PAULETTE GODDARD in
“NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH”
Wednesday, Oct.7
PENNY SINGLETON—ARTHUR LAKE in
“BLONDIE GOES TO COLLEGE”
Threw Your Scrap Into the Scrap-Drive Next Week
lllllll!llllll!llllllllllllllllllllllllll!llllllllll!l!lll!lllllll!llll!il!l!lll!l!lllllllllllllllllllllll
village. good dock they’ve
“That’s a
built,” Curt said. “I suppose Mitch
ell did it?”
“Sure.”
Just the one word, and it sounded
strange. Clipped and odd, for Mc
Innis. Curt threw his friend a side
long glance. they’re really going it
“Looks like
big here.”
“And how! They pushed their rail
road from Tempujo to San Alejo
more than a kilometer a week. And
meanwhile were building San Alejo
with materials flown across the
swamp by two freighter planes.
You’ve got yourself a job, Curt.”
“They must’ve sprung up full
fledged.” caught them
“I’ll say! One day we
throwing up temporary buildings at
Tempujo, the next day heavy ma
terials were coming in through Sole
dad. We had the facilities. They
shipped to Riverbend over our lines
and ferried across the Negro. They
still have a transportation office
over in Soledad, but most of their
stuff’s coming in through Cabeza
now.”
Associated Fruit Growers—where
Curt and Mclnnis, fresh from
M. I. T., had their first years of
practical engineering — stretched
along the north bank of the Rio
Negro, a hundred kilometers or
more of banana plantations in an
almost unbroken line. These were
fed by a narrow-gauge railroad, and
there was one handling of fruit from
farm pick-up platforms to conveyor
belts at shipside.
But the new Compania Agricola
Tropical, south of the Negro, had
more of a problem. It wasn’t pos
sible to run a railroad through to
the sea. Salt marshes lay between
their concession and the coast and
made it necessary to handle fruil
by rail from farm to river port, and
by steamer or lighters from there
to Cabeza where ocean vessels could
pick it up. Not so good, two han
dlings of perishable fruit. Costly,
too. And the delay and expense oj
hauling construction materials up
river was sharp in Curt’s mind.
“Well, here we are.”
Mclnnis stopped before a small
cantina, the facade a blinding, bil
ious green in the raw sunshine. Mc
lnnis put the boys down, led them
inside. Lee and Curt followed.
“It’s nearly lunch time,” Mclnnis
remarked. “Shouldn’t the kids be
fed, Lee? You know what the cook
ing is like here, but we can proba
bly get canned soups.”
Lee smiled.
“I don’t need a brick wall to fall
on me. Go ahead, you two. Have a
drink. I know you have plenty to
talk over. I’ll drag out my rusty
Spanish and get along.”
The men turned to the deserted
bar at the end of the room, mount
ed uncomfortable stools and ordered
gin rickeys. Whild the native bar
tender mixed them nearby, Curt
made conversation.
“Jerry, it’ll cost so much to pro
duce and ship fruit here that I
don’t see how these people can hope
to compete with Associated. Not
without a subsidy, and Tierra Libre
does not grant subsidies.”
Mclnnis grunted.
“Well, that’s their business.”
“Of course,” Curt mused on, “it’s
a pretty slick hombre who could
put anything over on Old Man
Moore. I could give even money
the Old Man figures they’ll go broke
getting into production, then plans
to bid in and take over the conces
sion cheap. Maybe throw a bridge
across the Negro and handle the
EARLY COUNTY NEWS, m.AKELY, GEORGIA
About a kilometer outside dl Tem
pujo, in a ditch by the track. The
damn zopilotes were wheeling over
head, so he got the section handcar,
loaded the body onto it—”
“The 11th?” interrupted Curt.
“That’s the date of their letter to
me! They didn’t waste any time.
Wonder how they picked a man so
quickly?”
“Well, the date’s correct. I re
member because we had an early
evening dinner-dance on the Tekla
at Soledad the night before Mitch
was found. And the Tekla pulled
out for Cristobal about 9:00 p. m.
on the 10th.”
“It did!” exclaimed Curt softly.
He looked at Mclnnis. “Their let
ter to me was dated the 11th, but
air-mailed from Cristobal on the
12th. Didn’t notice that discrepan
cy at first. When I finally did, I fig
ured the letter either made a plane
to the Canal Zone, or was misdated
in error.”
“We have no air service to Pana
ma from Soledad—direct. Course,
it’s less than two hours by air to
the Zone, but I doubt they’d make
the flight just for a letter. Any
way, I know a messenger from Tem
pujo brought mail to the Tekla just
before it sailed. Came as our party
was breaking up and going ashore.”
“Then the chances are the letter
5 1
ira sal
\ fpJI 5 -
%
,78 I \\j V
'// ,\\ v
h 3
v
:
r/
■>'< i! 1
“There’s nothing I can put a fin
ger on.”
fruit once from pick-up to the dock
at Soledad.”
Mclnnis grinned, but said noth
ing. The bartender placed the drinks
before them, then left to lend a hand
in the kitchen lean-to.
Alone now, and with a furtive
glance to be sure Lee was occupied
with the children, Curt pulled forth
Zora Mitchell’s letter. He spread it
open before the other, and his face
was serious, his voice low.
“Jerry, what’ve I got into?”
Mclnnis read the note, refolded
it, slid it back to Curt. He frowned.
He took a long pull at his drink.
“All right, Jerry, out with it,”
Curt spoke again. “What’s up?”
“Well, Curt,” his friend said final
ly, “my reason for coming down
to the coast to meet you wasn’t
altogether social. But now I’m here,
I have my doubts. There’s noth
ing I can put a finger on.” He
paused.
“Come on, pal, we know each oth
er’s first name. Spill it.”
It came out slowly and in pieces.
“Well, Curt, I can’t help feeling
there’s something fishy about your
new outfit. They have more men
on their payroll than we have, for
instance, Americans as well as na
tives, trying to get things set be
fore the next rainy season. That’s
all right. But Soledad’s the only
live spot—such as it is—within their
range. You couldn’t call Cabeza a
satisfactory place to liven a fellow
up over a holiday.
“So—well, damn it all, you’d ex
pect that gang to come to Soledad
once in a while. But no one ever
does. The two Swedes and the
Dutchman I told you about are the
only ones who ever get to Soledad,
and that’s only on business, to super
vise receipt of shipments.
“And they don’t talk! We tried to
get up a ball game with your people
once. No go. It’s as though this
Montaya was afraid his men’d spill
something to our advantage. And
that’s carrying the rivalry theme a
bit far for this business and this
country. I—well, you see how vague
it is, only a feeling ...”
Curt reflected. He pushed his
glass around in circles on the bar.
“Ever get over to the *new plant
ing yourself?”
“No,” grinned Mclnnis. “That
wouldn’t be etiquette. The Old Man
paid them a courtesy visit once,
but we’re rival outfits. If I went
over they’d think it snooping. All
the dope I’ve had on them is picked
up from natives. You know how
stuff gets around.
“And that leads right into what I
really came down here for. It was
especially to—uh, warn you. But, he
held up his hand, “don’t ask me
against what. I don’t know. That
note from Zora Mitchell—I’d talk to
her as soon as I could. Sounds like
she knows something.”
He held an uncomfortable silence
for a moment. Then:
“I got 'nold of a rumor after you
called me several days ago. There’s
no evidence, mind you, and it was
too late to stop you by cable. Well,
the natives working for me have
their own ideas about Mitchell’s
death. They say it was no native
did the job, but a couple of white
men. But Curt,” he expostulated,
“you know no white man would hack
a guy to pieces the way Mitch was
found.”
Curt thought this out.
“Huh, unless it was to hide the
fact that it was a white man’s kill
I ing. And suppose it was a white
man, Jerry, or a couple of them?
So what? Old Mitch knew his job,
but he certainly piled up enemies.
You and I know that well enough.
He made engineers out of us, first
job out of college, but we got plenty
bruised in the process. Men with
less sense of humor than we have
can’t take the treatment he dished
out.”
Curt pulled at his drink refiective
ly.
“You didn’t give me any details,”
he mentioned after another mo
ment.
“There aren’t many. A track
walker found him early in the morn
ing—fortunately before the buzzards
did. Let’s see, the 11th, it was.
UNCLE SAM WANTS YOUR SCRAP
CITATION
GEORGIA, Early County:
John W. Taylor as guardian of
the person and property of Miss N.
L. Taylor having filed his petition to
be allowed to resign his said trust,
and suggesting W. R. Taylor of said
county as a suitable person to he
appointed in his stead: this is to
cite all persons, including kindred
and creditors, to show cause before
the Court of Ordinary of said county
on the first Monday in October,
1942, why an order allowing such
resignation should not be granted
and why W. R. Taylor should not be
appointed guardian of the person
and property of Miss N. L. Taylor,
in the place and stead of the said
John W. Taylor. This September
7th, 1942.
D. C. MORGAN, Ordinary.
UNCLE SAM WANTS YOUR SCRAP
to me, dated the 11th, was put
aboard the Tekla which sailed the
10th. Actually mailed before Mitch
was found murdered. Right?”
“By God, Curt, that’s so!” Mc
lnnis brought his palm down on the
bar. “Mitch was killed some time
after dark on the 10th and discov
ered early on the 11th.’”
“Meanwhile ...” Curt fell silent,
then looked up keenly. “The two
Swedes are white men.”
Mclnnis frowned. “And there are
plenty more white men where you’re
going. No, Curt, the Swedes are
not what we’d want for bosom pais,
but we’ve no right to jump to con
clusions. Besides,” he dropped the
scowl and grinned, “I did some
checking up myself. Had my motor
boy ask questions here and there.
The Swede made the run from Tem
pujo to San Alejo late that after
noon, while Mitch was staying in
overnight.”
Another silence fell between them.
Then Curt spoke harshly.
“Jerry, there’s more here than
meets the eye. If Mitch’s killing
was a grudge payment, then, Tierra
Libre being what it is, there’s lit
tle we can do about it. Nothing, in
fact. And there’s nothing for me
to worry about. I don’t make ene
mies like Mitch did. But if there’s
more behind it if
. .
Mclnnis heaved a sigh.
“Curt, be careful! Don’t mount
any white charger over Mitch. He
asked for it. He’s been asking for
it for years. And you’ve got Lee
and the kids here now. But if—well,
I don’t have to say it, but if you
find you’re in a spot, call on me.”
They downed the last of their
drinks and swiveled to face the
room. But before rejoining Lee Curt
brought up another matter.
“By the way,” he said slowly,
studying his friend’s face, “I saw a
destroyer headed for Soledad this
morning. American, I suppose—
looked like ours. Any particular
reason for it?”
“No. The country’s quiet as a
church meeting. Dr. Arecas only
one step removed from being a dic
tator, sure, but a good one. Seems
to be what the people need, they’re
satisfied. He’s solidly entrenched,
too, there’s no opposition to speak
of. But . . .’’He paused.
“Well?”
“Well, we had a Navy visit only a
couple of weeks ago, and they cer
tainly aren’t scheduled to stop in
again so soon.” He added, in’ a puz
zled tone, “Funny I didn’t see the
ship as I came down the coast.”
“You were pretty low in the wa
ter and they were some distance
off.”
“Huh. Well . . .’’He shrugged.
They started across the room to
rejoin Lee and the boys. Mclnnis
dug his fingers into Curt’s arm.
“See Zora Mitchell, Curt, first
thing you get to San Alejo. But only
to find out if you have anything
personal to guard against,” he said
insistently. “Don’t borrow trouble.
You’re a family man now. What’s
more, the family’s right here with
you.” mean,” Curt
“Yeh, I see what you
answered dryly, his eyes on Lee
and the children.
(To Be Continued)
Our Phone No.
Is 180
Call us for the best in
Meats and Groceries.
We carry at all times a complete
line of Fancy and Family Groceries.
It is our purpose to keep what the
public wants.
oo
The place where quality counts—
The place where goods are fresh—
The place where prices are right—
FRYER’S MARKET
BLAKELY, GEORGIA
★ ★ POSITIONS AVAILABLE
What With WITH FBI AS TYPISTS,
STENOGRAPHERS
WAR ROADS
★ ★
Navy Cruisers are built in two
classes, light and heavy, the latter
displacing about 10,000 tons. Our
navy has about an equal number
of light and heavy Cruisers, the
10,000 ton Cruiser costing approxi
mately $20,000,000. Many Cruisers
are under construction and many
more are needed.
t
— I. —,
..
To pay for these speedy and pow
erful ships with their heavy guns
and armament we must buy War
Bonds. Citizens of a large town or
a given community, working in uni
ty, could buy one of these ships for
the Ngvy if they put at least ten
percent of their income in War
Bonds every pay day.
U. S. Treasury Department
$ >
ft****«
***ftftV.
Lift $ A
€
▲
.o r -
A
FOR FAMILIES OF NAVY MEN
This window sticker is being issued in color. It
may be obtained by applying to the nearest Navy
Recruiting Station, Post Office Building, Albany, Ga.,
or at the News office.
BRING YOUR COWS AND HOGS TO US!
Our pens are located at
the old Early County
1 Club yards near Bryant’s
i Mill. We buy, trade or
sell. Your business will BEils
be appreciated.
Telephones: Office 256; Residence 186
Mosely Livestock Yards
W. L. Mosely, Blakely, Ga.
(Continued from first page)
been found to be color blind. Ap
plicants must also be able to hear
ordinary conversation at least 15
feet with each ear and be qualified
in the operation of passenger-carry
ing- vehicles. They must have no
defects which would interfere with,
their use of firearms.
The entrance salary paid to special
agents is $3,200 per annum and ex
aminations and interviews are afford
ed applicants at regular intervals in
the Field Divisions of the Bureau.
Mr. Hammack has advised that ap
plication blanks for any of the
above positions will be forwarded to
applicants upon their requests to
the Special Agent in Charge, Feder
al Bureau of Investigation, 501
Healey Building, Atlanta, Ga.
BLAKELY CHAPTER NO. 282
ORDER EASTERN STAR
Holds regular meeting nights ev
ery second and fourth Thursday
nights, 7:30 o’clock p. m.
MRS. SALLY GOOCHER,
Worthy Matron.
Mrs. Nora Scarborough,
Secretary.