Evening star., 1937-12-05

Magazine Section

real job that might turn out permanent"
That was out, the Kid told him gruffly. He
was pretty stern about it. What did he look
like "a baby? Tomorrow morning he'd get
out and lineup something by himself. If Pop
would lend him fifty cents for cigarettes and
maybe sandwich.
I'D be glad to, son."
The Kid flushed, hung his head. He even got
little moisture yelling in his eyes.
He left the house right after breakfast the
second morning. Pop wished him luck and
watched him stride down the tree-lined stree.
toward town. The whistle of a locomotive made
slow faraway echo. It came from the freight
sldings over toward the north. Pop stood in the
doorway, listening to the echo.
The Kid landed the biscuit factory job with
out much trouble. He had nice smile and
wiry, well-knit body. Pop was so pleased when
he came home with the news that the kid felt
glow himself. He started the next morning
The foreman was kind of tough oaf who
kept the Kid on the jump and showed him the
heavy jobs. But the Kid remembered why he
was there and made no complaints.
Bit by bit he picked up the information he
needed. They paid twice month, every first
and third Friday. That meant ten-day wait.
The money came from the bank in the superin-
tendent's sedan and was carried in bags through
an alley doorway to the safe in the treaswers
office. 1t always arrived at two Pm. and was
sorted into envelopes for another two hours.
Payoff was promptly at four. The Kid grinned
as he thought that this time the payoff would
come at two - right out in that quiet paved
alley - where the sedan was halted. No opposi-
ton except couple of dumb clucks who had
been given an easy job because they were getting
too old to shove crates.
The only mean angle was Doris. She worked
at long table pasting labels on boxes as they
came whizzing from the chute. A cute dame,
blond as little taffy bar, with shy smile for
the Kid every time he wheeled his truck past.
The Kid fell hard for Doris. After the first
couple of days, they paired off for lunch in the
big room upstairs. She couldn't crack wise like
the Kid, but she was sweet little thing with
low, husky laugh. The thought of snatching
Doris's pay envelope made him squirm. He
knew exactly how much it was and it was
darned little Whether Chalky liked it or not,
he'd take chance and mail her back her
dough with bonus that would open her
blue eyes.
He sent a long detailed letter to general
delivery at Creston, and got one back giving
him phone number and new address. The
words of praise made the Kid feel good. When
a guy like Chalky wrote Dear pal, it meant
something! According to Pop Daley. you never
got brains till you were twenty-one. To the
Kids way of thinking. Pop still had his brains
coming.
All Pop could think about was oatmeal for
breakfast; and once a week, a day off for
pickerel fishing. He was nut about that. To
hurnor him the Kid agreed to 60 with him to
the lake the following Sunday; and Pop with a
pleased smile went up to the attic and dug up a
second rod and line. But Sunday turned out
wet and miserable. 1t rained heavily without
let-up. Pop was so disappointed that the Kid
felt sorry for him. He was sorta like Doris.
Funny how nice people were always so dumb.
Maybe it was their dumbness that made you
like them. Pop, with his fool pickerel fishing!
And Doris pinching herself half-buck week
to save up for Christmas presents. Hinting;
with her soft little gggle, that maybe if the Kid
behaved himself and stopped squeezing her
hand, Santa Claus might. Nuts!
The second week at the factory dragged.
Wednesday took million years. Thursday a