The Washington times., 1937-08-05

welcome call.
sirens Screeching, came down the
road on the return patrol. Tim
Strengthened up, brush in hand,
and turned around, facing his
customers. He saw them whirl
about on their stools tensely, in
a leering frozen poise, listening.
He waited until the shrek of the
police sirens diminished in the
distance before he spoke.
These here roads sure is full
of police tonight" he declared.
Then he came closer, scrutiniz-
ing his customers shrewdly, as
if struck by a thought.
Say, you fellows amt the
two bandits, be you?"
Shut up, Rube!" snarled one
of them. Shut your trap. Get
in behind there and stay dumb,
or III plug you"
Both had automatics in their
hands and prodded him to a
corner. They rifled his cash
register, and hastily stuffed food
into their pockets.
PLEADS FOR STEPS
The police sirens died away
completely. The bandits looked
out on the road cautiously, saw
no traffic. and made ready to
depart.
Just minute, gents" pleaded
Tim. Go out through the side
door, will you please. I just
painted the steps,"
Just stay where you are and
keep your health" warned one
of the bandits. Keep your trap
shut, or I'll plug you"
He slid open the rolling door
and dashed out the front way,
his companions following him.
Their feet slipped, their hands
with the guns flew upward, and
they tumbled over. A shot rang
out as one of the guns fell to the
ground and exploded.
In a moment Tim was on top
Of the sprawled killers, splash
ing the wet brush on their faces
and pouring the contents of the
can on their heads. One lay
completely stunned. The other
one stumbled to his feet and
dazedly fired his gun. The but
let went wild and smashed a
bulb in Tins electric sign. This
made Tim still angrier. He
crashed a crate over the killers
head, and they locked in COM
bat. struggling for the gun.
A bedlam of shrieking sirens
and piercing headlights con-
verged on Tins lunch-wagon.
The stunned killer was begin
ming to stir and CROPPED for his
gun in the gravel when the first
motorcycle policeman to reach
the scene sWooped down on him
and stretched him out again with
a fist to the chin.
HIS PLAN WORKS
In no time the two bandits
were huddled together in the
glaring circle of headlights,
muSSed-up and shackled. They
stood in a lurching position and
oozing with thick slippery sub
stance, which caused the officers
of the law to wipe their hands
on whatever they could find and
groan with annoyance.
Tim was in no better shape.
II don't care so much about
the ten thousand dollars re-
ward" he kept on repeating.
But no one can come in my
place and track up my new limo
leum with fresh paint. They
can't get away with it. Not
when I just painted the steps,
and paid out good money for
new linaoleum.
Holy mackerel, Tim" COM
planned one of the State troop
ers. wiping his paws on his
leather puttees, What in tarna-
ton did you feed these birds
that makes them so greasy?"
"Oh, that?" Tim grinned.
"They only saw the paint brush
in my hand, but instead of the
paint I picked up a can of fry
ing lard from under the counter
and gave it a good heavy coat
on the stairs. I knew they'd be
just onery enough to use the
front door again. Especially if
I asked them not to. -"
THE END
Copyright, 1897, by News Syndicate
COmDdny, Incl