The Washington times., 1930-11-04
Gangster Guns Spit Death
In This Gripping Serial
CHAPTER XXI.

rios camou1laged Stable. All
yellow killers, they could die
white, these polyglot Scums Of
the slums. The laws Of all de-
cent humankind they held In
hot hatred and cold contempt.
But they worshipped their own
distorted traditions Of per.
verted honor.
Facing them, their execution
ers were Of the same breed.
All, alike glanced with loath.
ing ct Cranky, the would-be
traitor, who still lay huddled
on the cement floor, doomed to
end that way, an ignominiouS
heap. Monk, the blood drip
ping from his battered mouth,
Spat at the gangs disgrace.
Him an Chimp!" he under.
toned Sidewise to One-Eye.
"He would o. turned up Goldie
an Chimp rated on us all
he tipped off the hangout-if
I could live long enough to"
"Shup up" snapped Gleason.
I give youSe time to pray, not
to bellyache. Get to It. This
typewriter's heavy an I'm get
tin fed up.
Monk smiled with q sneer.f
Then he rubbed his right hand
on the leg Of his trousers and
stuck 1t out to OneEye, at his
side.
80 long" he said. Il guess
we better shake hands oncet
aroun'-Gleason won't mind"
Solemnly they all gripped
moist, unsteady hands, each
with the other.
The Dying Oath
We're on the spot, fellers,"
said Monk. Were gettin' it
for what none Of us done. We
can all go to the gates O.
wherever we're goin' wit a
dy1n' oath that none of us had
q hand in croakin' Kinky King
but Gleason says we got
TO go-an' he's handlin' the
typewriter this trip well,
In this racket we all got to 60
=. ev'ry one O. them hood
1ums there'lI get his maybe
they won even get time to
pray we got q break
we got time to pray let's
pray!"
One by one they dropped to
their knees. Some clasped their
hands together, others cupped
hands over their eyes. All
muttered earnestly. Ray, the
chauffeur, intoned aloud the
only prayer that he knew-hiS
babyhood Nov I lay me"
Several Of the executioners
took off their hats, and all
looked nervous and touched
touched not with sympathy or
relporSe, but moved by the
presence Of men talking to
God-to God whom they would
soon look in the face.
Monk was down on one knee.
He shaded his bloody and bat
tered countenance with his
right hand. He mumbled mono
Syllables.
The scene grew interminable
to the armed murdererS, who
stood in disorderly formation,
making an irregular semi circle
behind Gleason, who was at the
fore, not letting the angle Of
his machine gun drop even
during the last pleas to heaven.
They shifted feet, wiped
their foreheads and squirmed
their shoulders.
Monk broke the tensity Of the
situation.
With a profound inhalation
that could be nothing but
Amen" he lifted his face,
drapped up the foot of the leg
on which he knelt, and stood
erect.
He fumbled in a pocket and
brought out a cigarette. In
another he found a match. He
lit up, filliped the match half
the length of the room. He
sucked at his smoke SpaSmodi
cally and belched out clouds.
His jumpy eyes peppered Glea-
son and the murder-mob be-
hind him.
$50 youse had to do it in
p'lice cars an p'lice harness" =
he sneered. "Workin; wit the
coppers! hope youse all got
the same square deal youSe give
US. I'm ready"
One by one the GorioS were
rising .,
Last Prayer
Chip Hun1mell was the last
still on his knees. He was
praying frantica1ly.
Come on" called Monk.
"If what you said Already amt
enough, no matter what you say
won get you nothin'. come.
on-we got to go-let's co."
Hummell finished out his in
vocation. AS he came to his
feet he opened his eyes and
seemed .selfconscious because
everyone was looking at him,
as though he had been caught.
alone, In some boyish, or boob
1Sll deed. He braced his should.
erS and f1attened his broad
back against the bricks.
"All right" he said tl1roattly.
"I-I won hold up the works"
Secretary" Gleason, conceiv-
ed in gin, born in sin, nursed
on blood, was tough. He had
plotted the death Of many q
man before and carried it out
with a serious concentration
shat had no room for shame or
sentiment. It was his bust