The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1937-11-02


But to know that, Of course, Joe
would have had to be equipped
with sufficient psychic foresight
to divine that Schmaltz Vein
Rarten and Patsy Di Rocco would
park their greasy trousered seats
on the stools of the Gloria Coffee
Pot Just up the block from Blatt'S
about II p. m. as was their nightly
habit. He would also have needed
psychic hindsight enough to re-
view the history of Schmaltz' taxi
driving career and to learn there
from of the great pride which
Schmaltz took in his chosen pro-
feSsion.
He would have known that in
humping a private car out of a
parking space, outguessing a red
light or just plain broken field
driving, the Weingarten hack was
supreme. But Joe was not aware
of these things and much less was
he aware that the Weingarten Su-
premacy would be challenged on
the particular evening in question.
SERIOUS QUESTION
At lust about the time Joe and
his two aides-de-camp were inquir-
ing Of hawk-nosed Mr.. Blatt the
price of a comparatively new tenor
banjo, preparatory to backing him
and his clerk up against the wall
before the muzzles of three well
used rods, Patsy Di Rocco was pro-
pounding a very serious, If hypo-
thetical, question to Schmaltz.
"SuppoSin'," Patsy was saying
around a mouthful of coffee
soaked pastry, "a guy that's just
pulled a Stick-up or knocked off
some lug, hops into your hack,
shoves a gun in your ear and tells
va to get goin'. What would va
do?"
"No guy like that'd get into my
hack" Schmaltz asserted with a
slightly truculent tilt to his fat un-
shaver chin.
He sent the heavy coffee cup
sliding along the damp, crumb-
specked counter and motioned to
the counterman, Mother one,
Sid"
''Whaddya mean, no guy like
that'd get into your hack?" de-
manded Patsy.
"It happens every day. Didn' at
little squirt wit the Luxor over
here on Eight n F'ty-Secun' have
to drive to hellangone all over the
West Side with a rod at the back
Of his neck and the cops poppin'
the daylights outa his tires?
He never got paid nothin' for
the rubber the cops cut up on i'm
neither"
"All right" Schmaltz retreated.
"Supposin' a guy does get in my
hack with a rod. Suppose I have
to take it on the lam with him.
He'd get the fastest ride he ever
had. The cops wouldn' be shootin'
up none Of my rubber"
Patsy dribbled a bit Of the mud
colored coffee down his already
well laden shirt front as he turned
quickly to cock a scornful eye at
his companion.
"a fast ride?" His voice as
Sumed the nasal tone of q New
York cab driver expressing polite
but violent establishment. I'm at
joloppy of yours?"
DEFENDS REMARK
Schmaltz gulped an entire
mouthful of doughnut in his haste
to defend his statement.
''You heard me-" he shouted,
''the fastest ride he ever had. The
fastest ride any guy ever had!"
Patsy scattered a thin spray Of
coffee into the atmosphere i'm
mediately before him in the per-
Torrance Of what he considered
a well-executed laugh Of derision.
At the conclusion of the laugh
he enlarged on his opinion Of
Scnmaltz' joloppy. and conse-
quently became the recipient Of a
vigorously worded challenge from
the outraged Schmaltz to a test
of speed, endurance and general
cunning in the art of hack driv-
ing.
At the height of this discussion
Joe Protzman and his associates
brought to a satisfactory con-
clusion their transaction in Mr..
Blatt's establishment. Disdaining
to truss up the elderly proprietor
and his boyish clerk, they pre-
pared to leave with solicitous
word Of advice to them concern
ing shouts, screams or other loud
sounds which might reach the
ears Of passerS-by or policemen.
Joe emerged from the pawn
shop first, turning toward the
corner and the cheerful symbol OF
the Gloria Coffee Pot.
His first assistant came out a
moment later ard strolled off IN
the opposite direction.
Joe's brisk. but unhurried pace
had Just about brought him
abeam Of the coffee pot door
when the sharp crack Of gun
from the direction Of Blatt's told
him things had taken an un'
expected turn.
With instantaneous refuge IL
mind he took a quick survey Of his
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