Evening star., 1937-12-05
ALMOST TUUE|nTY- ONE

twiddling adjustment of the shade on his bed
room window upstairs before he turned in Such
things made man householder, made him
forget that he was no longer cop but retired
veteran with frosty, close-clipped hair and flat
feet that felt squirmy and good in comfortable
house slippers.
He was finishing his spraying of the dark
lawn when he heard the swift slap-slap of heavy
feet The sound brought pleasurable tension
in his throat. Nobody ever ran like that but
cops Daley was leaning over the hedge as the
shadowy bluecoat paused for painting instant.
He was young fellow, eager as Daley used to
be on the chase - more years ago than he
cared to admit.
did you see him, Pop? A kid about nineteen
or twenty - with gum
mo, didn't What's the matter?'
Tried to stick up cigar store. He ran up
this way - had handkerchief over his face"
He must have doubled around the corner
or I'd have seen him"
Wistfully Pop Daley watched the cop pound
away. He sighed and turned back toward his
quiet bachelor cottage.
But turning, he saw something that made
his w1inkled eyes narrow. The shade of his bed
room window upstairs was not neatly half
drawn as it should have been.
The cop racing up the dark street was still in
sight. Pop could have stopped him with quick
shout. But he didn't A kid with a handkerchief
mask. Nineteen or twenty - with gun.
For an instant Pop could see another kid -
seventeen, this kid was lying dead across
the counter of darkened East Side candy store
with bullet from Pops service gun in his
brain.
Quietly he coiled the wet hose and put it
away under the kitchen porch. A muddy foot
print on the hall carpet pointed toward the
stairs. Pop climbed wheezingly, walked into his
bedroom, snapped on the light.
Don't be damned fool, son! Come out of
that closet!" he demanded.
The door was flung suddenly open. The gun
glittered; so did the eyes of the kid peering
along the steady barrel.
"Okay, wise guy! Yell and you get it!'
You're frightened or you wouldn't say
that" Daley replied quietly.
He walked toward the muzzle of the gun,
wheeling little like tired man. There was
neither menace nor fear on his face. The kid
tensed dangerously for an instant. Then, Pops
r1Plt ndnO ClOScu OVcl Uda1Ci VI tiiS SOIi'
seized it. He put it into his pocket. The Kid
didn't move.
Pop Studied the weather beaten face. the
hands with their chapped skin and broken
nails. He must have dropped off freight and
thumbed ride to town. Pop Daley could read
him at glance. To hold up small-town shop
would be not only profitable but funny; he'd
think of the town itself as ''brgh," its In
habitants as saps
MAYBE you're the sap" Pop told him
quietly. "In that clothes closet behind you are
pair of blue pants and an old uniform coat.
used to be a cop"
Don't turn me in, mister!'
"Why did you hold up that cigar store?"
The kids brown eyes ficked.
II was hungry, mister"
Baby Face they called him on the road.
Chalky, who was still not certain whether the
kid was ready for fast company, had admitted
only that morning that the Kid could lie his
way through knothole in fence. The thought
of Chalky waiting for him in the freight yard
made the Kids voice husky.
Honest, amt eaten for two days i was
so hungry, IL sorta lost my head"
Under lowered lids he watched the old guy,
wondering if he'd ask about the gun.