Evening star., 1933-08-20

As she spoke the girls dark
eyes darted an anxious look over
her shoulder at the. turnstiles of the shoreline
station.
Il reckon" drawled Rick Powell Il could
use up 40 minutes here right we'll
II got to warn you-there's apt to be
trouble"
Il don't mind trouble ma am. 1t has trailed
me so much we are friends. kind of. If you
say 50 I'll pull out pronto; but me- I crave
to camp right here"
"Okay big fella."
It was a weary sigh The girl suddenly re-
laxed on the platform bench, as though ut
terly exhausted. For long three minutes she
held her eyes closed her slim body motionless.
Rick Powell locked away in an unseeing
stare at the commuters struggling for the
local He wondered mus ing back, at the twist
OF luck that had turned him into this situation
few moments ago.
GUNNER tw4lIght Michigan boulevard.
y A crisp breeze bouncing in. from the lake.
with a rousing smell Of fresh water. Himself
all big-toxn lonesome: thinking he'd head home
for Oregon in his sidehin gouger tomorrow,
instead of seeing the fair for another week.
Moseying down through a sidewalk subway.
hauling I'D at the turnStileS of shoreIne sta
tion Then the girl-a slim kid in worn blue
suit and dab of straw hat Great dark
eyes in thin face. Hands fumbling franti-
cally In leather purse. Plumb panicky, and
the reason was plain. Rick had horned in.
And here he was. She had let him buy her
ticket to Gary. Ind, and had written down
his name and address-"Rick Powell. Pendle-
ton Oreg"-so that she could return the dol
lar bill But she had missed that particular
expraes. Forty minutes to wait
Kicks blue-5yed gaze drifted back through
the dim glow of platform lights to the girl
She had sure acted as though she needed
somebody around Sort of like scared rabbit
a
Rick thought suddenly.
-Looky. ma'am' he spoke up. Il could put
ON the nosebag." He waved a large hand
toward the station lunch counter. The thumb
WAS warped. the nail a thick spike from rope
burns. Would you do me the honor? Plenty
time for a snack anyhow"
The dark eyes narrowed.
Is that song, big fella?'
Beg pardon ma amp" Rick's tone was puz-
zlei
For moment the girl was silent. while
Rick frankly met her searching gaze.
You're not on the make" she said finally,
sitting up straight. Il just dent get your
game"
"Oh-my game is skookum chuck" His
freckled face was summed by grin You
don't know me from Adam and 1 don't know
you from Eve. 50 the game is $3.50 and fair
enough. I crave company. You're the first
person in Chicago I've swapped over a dozen
words with"
"Okay." The girl smiled wanly 81 could
use some eats" She hestated Then: My
name is Patsy Martin"
COON after their orders were served at the
- lunch counter Rick Powell noticed that
he and the girl we're being watched from be-
hind In front of Rick a mirror shone above
a pie rack. In it he caught the reflection of
two men. They exchanged words that he could
not hear as they scowled at Patsy Martin.
To the man from the Oregon ranch country
the pair had the look of society dudes. They
were elegant in tailored duds, barbered and
polished like a span of prize horses.
One was a smoky giant of a man, muscled
like q bull. The other was a pasty faced, sad
eyed runt. hashily dressed. Rick glirnpsed
tia, runt's feet in the mirror. He wore purple
spats
Rick was about to remark on the presence Of
the two watchers. when it struck him that. they
Mort