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I EI'RSDAY. JULY 27, 1950,
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HE THAT RUNS MAY READ—The biggest Ten Commandments in the world are Taid out in huge
. |white stones on a mountainside near Murphy, Tenn, Each letter is taller than a man, & you can see
: by comparison to the people at left of the Tenth Commandment. More than 15,000 persons are ex
! ‘expected to visit the unusual shrine during late summer and falil
7% oL ONESOME BRIDE bR
| By Grace Nies Fletcher.
1 7
THE STORY: Glor‘q Brown,
pride of four n;onths. earns how
to bake apple pie at the Brooklyn
apartment of her mneighbor Mrs.
Beroni. But Mrs., Benoni is dis
{urbed by the arrival of a hat l::fi
and a phone call from Mr. Ben
about something in a newspaper.
The next day the Benonis have
disappeared and then Gloria and
her husband Miltiades discover
that the body of the man who de
livered Mrs. Benoni’s hat is in
their dumbwaiter, They’ve got to
get rid of the body, because some
one is coming down the hallway
of the apartment.
* % * ¥
VI
Someone was indeed coming.
Footsteps pounding down the cor
ridor stopped at their door, and
someone banged upon the panel,
demanding peremptorily, *“Open
up, you!”
““It’s that illiterate cop!” Gloria
]i',‘u‘l'ed. £ .
Miltiades shut the waiter door
finally and leaned against it, pant
ing as if he had been running,
wiping beads of sweat from his
‘orehead. ; .
“Someone screamed in‘there! I
heard it!” the cop’s voice said and
the door began to creak ominously.
Miltiades strode to the door
which opened so suddenly the big
policeman almost sprawled inside.
“You're making a heck of a rack
et,” Miltiades said angrily on the
theory that attack is the best de
fense,
“I heard the lady scream, I
thought—" the big policeman be
gan but Gloria drew, herselt up
haughtily, interrupted, “Me
scream? Why, I didn’t breathe a
syllable, did I, darling? My hus
band would certainly have heard.
It must be the parrot you heard,
out on the fire escape.” Bless him,
he’d just come across with a hor
rible hoarse yelp of glee as his
mistress set him out for his bath
and now if he’d just blow bubbles
loudly enough.
“Pretty bubbles in the air,” the
bird squawked, raucously. “Help!
Help!”
The policeman strode across the
room, glared out at the fire escape
as Gloria held her breath. If only
he’d get out of here, so she could
pull that awful thing clear to the
cellar and:- where someone else
could find it.
“Well,” the policeman turned
back to them, stymied for the mo
ment but not, one could see, con
vinced. “Now that we're all here,
we might as well have a little
chat,”
He eyed the great height of Mil
tiades warily as he drew some
thing from his pocket, unwrapped
It carefully, It was a knife, a
sharp-looking knife, and when she
saw the red handle, Gloria caught
her breath, pressed warningly
with her shoulder against Milti
ades arm. It was the “Mr.” knife
of her set. She must have forgot~
ten it yesterday when she gath
ered up her cooking junk.
But now the handle wasn’t the
ouly thing that was red; there was
a 1 ugly brownish-red stain upon
the sharp steel blade. That—thing
on the dumbwaiter had had a red
Stdin on the front of the tan coat.
;* & ®
: She pressed the back of her
t““ against her mouth to keep
'om screaming again but fortun
:”‘x,l-"f the policeman was looking at
Miltiades,
£ \Ou ever seen this before, Mis
vt ~‘The knife’s got your initials
on it, ‘MB. Mr.-M.8.” he added
“ ¢ ,f.!!'
ir) - )
S & /K
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757?»0}
I Wanks te the *xiee vitaming in Cloverleof Dry Mifki »
I Clovarlect mokes foods taste better plus being exire
b Sut in food velyes. Use Cloverleof in ol sum-
Bertine ecoking for better - .
B '~°l£AF
¥ wm*ux ’. @ :
B CHOCOIATE /¢ 8
B Mk [genii, £ ‘
B MLICSHAKES |8 w 2 |
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Copynight 1950 by NEA Service Ine ‘
grimly. We just picked it up be
hind the washing machine at the
Benonis,” next door.”
“I left it there!” Terror gave
Gloria a voice when she saw her
husband threatened. “I used it to
cut the top pie erust so it wouldn’t
run over—the juice, I mean.” She
shook the policeman’s big arm in
her eagerness, insisting, “You've
got to believe me! It was all my
fault. Miltiades never even saw
the Benonis . . .”
“Debris!” The sound of the jan
itor’s voice and the ominous rattle
of the dumbwaiter stopping at
their floor froze words on her lips,
the very blood in her veins. No,
no, this mustn’t happén. It couldn’t
She stared at the little dumb
waiter.door as if it were the en
trance to Hades itself, as indeed
it was for the little man ingide.
“Debris, ladies!”
“No!” Gloria cried, running to
the closed door and yelling fran
tically so the janitor could hear.
“We haven’t any garbage today!”
The cop might split his infini
tives but he wasn’t dumb. He saw
the garbage can where Miltiades
had set it down on the floor and
he saw the agony on Gloria’s face
and he started forward. He was
opening the door, Gloria shud
dered. The room went round and
round in dizzy pinwheels of horror
as he stared at its dreadful burden,
turned to look grimly at the ashen
faced Miltiades.
“So,” the cop said, “there wasn’t
any garbage.”
B % &
By the time Gloria was herself
again able to think coherently,
a great many things had happened
rapidly, and something new had
been added.
Lieut. Thomas X. McGann of
the Homicide Squad had arrived
at the Splendide and was in
charge, and squads of technicians,
photographers, fingerprint experts
and various assistants whose jobs
Gloria couldn’t even guess were
swarming all over her own and the
Benonis’ apartments.
¥Quit looking at me as if I were
going to whang a harp!” she told
Miltiades irritably. In the mirror
she looked like a hag, with no
make-up and her hair every which
way. “I'm perfectly all right. It
was only the shock.”
“What shock?” Lieutenant Me-
Gann inquired sweetly, appearing
suddenly in:«the doorway of their
bedroom.
“I suppose from now on we'll
have things popping out from un
der the rug all the time,” Gloria
murmured wearily. “I find a
corpse delivered on my dumb
waiter and he asks, ‘What shock?’
A great detective.”
“This is Lieutenant McGann,
darling,” Miltiades introduced
them hastily. His gaze implored
her not to wisecrack but to co
operate,
* * %
VII
Lieut. Thomas X. McGann of
Homicide was a plump little Irish
man in a salt and pepper suit. He
was rather like two dumplings set
on top of each other, the small on
the big one, but there was nothing
funny about his eyes, hard and
very blue with sparks in them
when he was mad, as now, like
two pieces of steel clashing, which
betrayed his calling—that of put
ting miscreants in jail.
“It would have been wiser,” he
commented, ignoring Gloria and
speaking to Miltiades, *if you had
called the police at once when you
found Jack the Cork.”
“You know who he is!” Gloria
cried, waving her long lashes at
him admiringly. “I thought he
couldn’t be just a delivery boy. I
think the Brooklyn police are won
derful! Do yo uknow who killed hi
derful! Do you know who killed
him, too?”
“1,” the lieutenant told her, “am
asking the questions around here,
young lady. Since when did the
Cork become a delivery - boy?
Give.”
So she told him about the hat
from Ariadne’s, how the lock had
slipped on the bathroom door —
maybe and maybe not—and how
upset Mrs. Benoni had been when
her husband phoned about some
thing on page 7 of the newspaper,
. Don’t Neglect Slipping
Do false teeth drop, slip or
wobble when you talk, eat, laugh
or sneeze? Don't be annoyed and
embarrassed by such handicaps.
FASTEETH, an alkaline (non
acid) powder to sprinkle on your
plates, keeps fals2 teeth more
firmly set. Gives confident feel
ing of security and added com
fort. No gummy. gooey, pasty
‘aste or feeling. Get FASTEETH
today at any drug store.
T e
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MMW“‘“'M e o i
e, OV 0 X 74
WATCH YOUR STEP—Sculp
tured from a single piece of|
leather and clinging to the foot |
by “cobbler’s magic” are these |
“Twenty-First Century” shoes |
shown in a New York fall fash-|/
ion show. Made in gold kid, the |
slipper has high heels and ankle,
straps for formal wear. @ /
e
which McGann read avidly when
she showed it to him.
“Cznery, Standt, Gordon—Loftly
Gordon! That’d be him. He was
paroled yesterday and we were
expecting trouble but not so soon:
Jack the Cork was a member of
the Benoni gang and Lofty used to
be. But something happened, we
don't know exactly what, and he
got on the outs and was sent up
for five years. The Cork snitched
on him. Jack was called the Cork
because he was very fond of
champagne, and once he’d pulled
the cork he never put the bottle
down till it was empty. An expen
sive habit, so he had to steal occa
sionally; and when soused, he was
very careless with a knife.”
“I'm getting mixed up. I thought
it was he who was knifed!” Gloria
murmured.
The lieutenant nodded unhap
pily. “He was. And you are not
the only one who is mixed up, be
cause we have been watching the
Benonis and now they are gone
and the emeralds are gone—and
so is Jack the Cork. It could be
the Benonis killed him themselves,
before they skipped with the
jewels.” -
«Using my knife and getting
him neatly delivered on our dumb
waiter,” ~ Miltiades commented
pitterly. “Why did they pick on us
for the fall guys?” :
“If they did,” the lieutenant
amended gently, getting up. “Aft
ter all, it was your knife and own
ership of the murder weapon . . 34
He left it at that asking, “You
say you work at 19.4 Broadway?”
Miltiades nodded and looked ac
tively miserable, for the company
was not going to like this sort of
publicity over an employe and
jobs were getting scarcer. “Good
grief, I'h better call the boss!” he
recalled suddenly. “I didn’t even
tell him I was leaving this morn
ing; I just walked out. Maybe,” he
said uneasily, “I’d better to tell
him myself about this mess. Not
over the phone.”
«Want a lift?” the uieutenant of
fered. “I think I’ll take a run over
to Ariadne’s. Don’t worry. There
won’t be anything about you in
the papers—yet. The reporters’
war cry will be for the Benonis.
But don’t decide to take a trip,
you two, see?”
' “Okay. Thank you, but I'll take
the subway,” Miltiades refused the
ride. The idea of drawing up to
the office in a Black Maria, even
disguised as a black radio car, was
somehow repugnant, “You all
right now, Kitten?”
“I am far from all right but I'll
do something about it at once,”
Gloria said, making a rueful face
at her disheveled self in the mir
ror. “I feel like the leper in the
Bible, ‘Unclean, unclean!” ‘I shall
burn everything I have on in the
incinerator. Is there any reason
why we should not go ‘to Jones’
Beach for a swim when Miltiades
gets back? T should like to get
out of here.”
“Go ahead,” the lieutenant told
her. “But don’t get excited if you
spot someone following you.'
Checking on you, yes, but morei
for protection.” |
** % 1
’ The door closed behind them
and, for the first time in her mar
ried life, she was glad to get rid of
her husband because she wanted
to think. It was all her fault Mil
| tiades was in this predicament,
| fantastic and unbelievable as it
| was, so it was up to her to get
_him out. If she’d stuck to the prin
ciples poked into her along with
| her spinach in early childhood, not
THE BANNER-HERALD, ATHENS. GEORGIA
to speak to strange people even
in church, she'd never hawe been
mixed up Wik jewehythiexes; pye
murderers. -
Not that Gloria had been brought
up as a snob, Hardn't she banged
a ty%ewriter for three yeurs after
her big coming out party at
Hampshire House? True, her fa
ther, Colonel Perkins, had had ta
‘have lunch with Prof, John Nemo
Brown before she was allowed to
take the job, which at the time
had seemed extremely stuffy but
which now seemed safe, sane ,and
Y Guaranteed Meats
Armour’s Star
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very healthy—a lot healther than
having to be trailed by a plain
qlofhes rrugn begayseoypaybe she
knew too much and maybe the
same unpleasant thing could hap
pen to her as Jack the Cork.
“I'd better go get some food for
a lunch to take to Jones' Beach,”
she decided sensibly. She and
Miltiades could stay till the moon
Irose and it would be all romantic
and silvery,
(To Be Continued)
NEEDLE-POINT URGED
FOR RELAXATION \
—Reach for a needle instead of a
golf club. That's the relaxation
motto of Dy, P. A. (Pete) Haley,
Charleston physician.
“There's nothing more relaxing
than to pick up my needle-point
and get in a few stitches, [ like
golf, too, but needle~point is fas
cinating,” he commented. “It helps
with my surgery, too,” he added,
“For one thing, it keeps my fingers
nimble.” GRS O GRO e
One of Dr. Haley's completed
needle-point pleces, a scene en~
titled “Evening,” was exhibited at
a meeting in San Francisco of the
American Physician’s Art Associa
tion, The design shows a girl
crossing a bridge against a vividly
colored background.
Hares are born with their eyes
epen and covered with hair, while
‘new-born rabbits are blind and
naked.
PAGE THIRTEEN
Wyoming oil drillers have gong
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vocord, LR 3
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