Evening star., 1923-02-25

| better not be any crooked worf
about this-"
"If there's any crooked work, soa.
| It's done already and you aren't the
sufferer" snapped Sweetie Papa. "Ics
a hard game. young man, Better Quit
winner while you are winner. Bet
ter
Are you going to play or a-enr
your I'm not hedging, am I? There
my money"
II see IT,"
But don't see yourr
lnNCE more Sweetie Papa glarea
~ at Blackbird Jordan, without a
response. Then he dragged forth the
money and counted It out on the
liable. Following which he reached
FOR the box and started to fumblc
with 1t. But strong hand stopped
him.
Nothing doing! Don't you tuEgie
those cards-hear ne? Don't you
even start TO Juggl, EN-. Either this
things going to b, on the square
or there'il be the worst rumpus that
you ever stuck your nose in. There's
police In this town"
And he owns the city council,
quoted Sweetie Papa And rho no.
lice. And he controls the polite.
and-bees-bees-bees
Blackbird turned, with his ,onrue
hanging between his lips. The aash>
young man stared at him.
Il don't get that bees signal. n
you two are IN cahoots-"
III we were, we amt" broke in
Sweetie Papa. Then he slapped the
card face down on the table. WHATS
your guess. Make 1t snappy and Re.
the agony over. Name the letter or
this card?"
The fiashy young man grinned ano
reached for the money. Then \.
started out OF the tent
Look at II yourself" he called o,,er
his shoulder, ITS the dear old Ie.tA-
| r."
swsetie Papa did no. even turn
! over the card until the stranger had
passed beyond the Sidewalk. Then.
his lips grim, he whirled to The
sweating Blsckbird.
$50 you pulled It again, huhrs
me? I never"
"Oh, Of course noti You never dto
anything worse than murder. Oh no,
You and your sucker waiting 70 be
trimmed. Well, when do You meat
him?
Honest. Jimmy
Shut up" Sweetie Papa snanwaA
the ard faHo
disclosed cleaning letter "Rrs s1
didn't even have to look at TT
know. Didn't put It In there7 Yeh.
you had a sucker all right-but he
wasn't that guy. He was me-the
same old sucker who thought you'd
be honest for once in your life. You
| wouldn't do nothing worse than mur
der your grandmother, you wouldn't"
That's It. Bawl me outm Black
bird was becoming vehement himself
| How do mako anything out of IT.
How"
Hes got $4,000 Of my money
| hasn't he? FTfty-irty. that makes
$12.500 for you! Quit your kidding,
Blackie. I thought you could be
decent for once. Now. lemme tell
S-oA 1oN EC tI0 DOSb III
this town. and you're big guy. And
I'm little. but I've got zoo OF the
| toughest roughnecks that ever swung
a tent stake. Get that? What's more
| I haven't liked the looks Of this VII
lage from the time saw It this
morning. So either you get out your
checkbook and you write me q piece
Of paper for $4,000 beans or TIL yell
| Hey Rube.' Get that? And II r ever
yell 1t, I'll take a 100000 worth of
satisfaction out of your hide before
the police ever get here-and don't
/ you forget IT. Hear me? Get ou' /
that checkbeok."
| "But-"
"One minute to get out that check.
book and start writingw Out cane
Sweetie Papa's watch TIE capper
moved to the entrances of the side
wall. as though to shut Off exit
Blaokbiri Jordan looked about him
in sudden fear
Listen, Jimmy-you wouldn't do q:
old pal q trick like that"
Thirty seconds. And while I'm al
It, I'll see that you get couple OF
bumps for Lou. She'd appreciate Il
| But Jimmie. honest
Ten seconds!'
| And out came Blackbi check
| book. Two minutes more and putting
and sweating, he passed out OF the
I tent. Sweetie Papa cooked his head
Trail him." he signaled to Three
Card. Monte. The capper obeyed. 70
| return fifteen minutes later his
mouth drawn low at one corner
| went straight TO q drugstore ano
into the telephone booth I took the
one next to him-and heard througl.
the partition. Called up the bank
and stopped payment on that check.
1907" Sweetie Papa raised his eye
brows Then, carefully stuffing the
! worthless sheet of paper into his
pocket, he moved for the sidewa!l
"All stores closed" he ordered. moth,
ing doing on the grift until we're,
out OF this burg. And if anybody
asks for me tonight I'm not on th'
lot"
| ~ + *
lyYYIfICTI he wasn't. Instead, Sweetic
w Papa that night was in his pri-
vate car debating a letter to Kid
Lewis, his stenographer. At last the
humping OF the typewriter finished
he grasped the first draft, read it, anu
leaned back in his chair
| "Charlier' he called. and a voice
| answered from the first staterooul
down the little hall. see how this