Palisadian., 1925-01-23
Close
Shave
By SIDNEY WILDHOLT
% by Western Newspaper Union. }


Youthful, upright, and reasonably hon.
est, no man could say of John Pet
wine that he rebelled violently against
Volstead's notorious mandate.
One glass was equivalent to many
where John Petwine was concerned;
two glasses made him silly, and that
word means rather the opposite of the
empty it used to mean; while more than
two glasses Johns stomach stubbornIy
but steadfastly refused to consider. Be-
fore the memorable Eighteenth amend
ment had terrorized half his associ-
ates, John Petwine knew from the ex-
perience gained in few such convivi-
al gatherings as New Years Eve cele-
brations that more than two glasses
of any beverage with a net content ex-
ceeding the niggardly legal per cent
meant nausea.
John was loath to accept more than
one drink on most occasions; he had a
profound fear of that state of mind
and body in which he knew neither
what he was doing nor very well how
to do 1t.
AS he sat second to the row Of wait
ing victims in the barber shop this
bright morning, John Petwine was do
ing his mental loveliest best to put
two and two, or even three and one,
together to make four.
Something had happened the night
before. His memory retained certain
all too vivid Impressions; brief puffs
from slim cigarette under a white
arc light; streaming yellow rays from
a doorway flung wide in the hazy dark
ness of the night; girls quick,
sharp cry for succor; swift dash of
courageous, chivalric footsteps; scarlet
globules of red blood trickling from
two dark apertures above two rows of
cleaning ivory teeth. John Petwine
recalled this bizarre series of mental
images only too poignantly. What did
they signify? What part had he
played? Had he been the chivalrous
sucker? Or hat-why-when-?
"Nextw
"Shave." said John Petwine sue
cinctly.
Right" agreed Tony Gragino with
a smile. His standard routine joke
was even then on the way. But not
too close a shave, eh, Jack?" he added
with proper emphasis.
At this critical juncture the door
opened and in stepped Fate.
Fate was not an Italian, but no
other wise was he remarkably differ
ent from Tony Gragino. They greeted
each other cordially.
Heard the latest developments?
asked Fate.
NO." said Tony. "What's happened
now?"
MACS ready for the hospital and
an unknown guy has grabbed Marie" !"
He literally hurled the words out with
considerable vehemence. -.-..-
The lather-laden razor poised some
six inches above John Petwine's left
temple.
"You don't say SOP calculated Tony.
Sure" Fate went on, This new
guy has butted in and swatted Mac
and then disappeared right off the bat
and Marie with him. They can't be
found anywhere"
"But Marie !' Tony was protesting
.nournfully, II was in love with
Marie"
Had 1t not been for the razor edge
pressed so closely against his left
cheek, John would have squirmed in
his chair. He tensed his muscles to
hold himself rigid. 1t would never do
to show his CONSERVATION.
"Righto," agreed Fate. "But there'll
he something doing by tonight, sure.
They're on his trail"
"No suspicion as to who the guy is?"
demanded Tony.
"None at all, as far as l can see.
But they've got hunch as to where
he is," Fate explained.
Tony was beginning to shave under
Johns chin. The icy sweat actually
trickled. Johns morning-aft ice
pack was fguratively materializing.
II hope they get him!" said Tony
fervently. Ut would serve the but
tinsky right"
Johns heart was in his throat, but
ne didn't dare swallow just then for
fear of juggling the Adams apple that
was the center of the razor's attention
at that precise moment. Why-oh-why
had he ever taken to drink?
"That's all?" asked Tony, calming
perceptibly.
The jugular vein of his patient was
no longer in any immediate danger.
The barber was about to get the hot
towel.
isn't that enough?" retorted Fate
Here's the paper. You can read it
for yourself He handed copy of
the previous nights Record to Tony.
Thanks" said Tony, taking it. I'D
buy it myself, Jim, but as long as you
get it every night and bring it around
so l can read"
Forget the old gag, Tony, and
watch what'll turn up tonight" With
which words Fate departed.
With the steaming cloth smothering
his perspiring features-the sweat was
no longer cold-John Petwine's men,
ory mists cleared entirely away.
"That was a close shave" he MUIR
INJURED TO himself. not without some
awe, remembering that he had con-
sumed the last of his Christmas brew
"a bit over one glass-before read
ing the latest installment of the news
4 - .xsN hr