The Washington times., 1937-11-30
N~<4r nM0v1ELAND
"HdrdbOiLed" Scribe
Interviews Sleek
George Raft
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Editorial Art Director and Special
Writer OF The Washington
Times

tGC' W IiJC w uOItLtyGOH
Times
THE bellboy picked up my
= camera case and, turning
to say something, caught a
glimpse of me.
Miss Martin! What
what's the matter? How'd
you get that black eye?"
Listen, kid" l says, don't
be sticking your mush in my
business. Just grab that case
and toddle along without so
much CAB"
As we head for the ele-
vators, he keeps looking back
at me. And I'm gettin' mad,
see? So l blurts out:
$50 you tink dis is a real
sinner, huh? Well, get dis
straight-there amt no one
hanging a sinner on Jackie Mar
tin, not while l have two fists to
swing. So stop givin' me them
looks!"
Really, I don't mean to be
rude, Miss Martin, but it's all so
strange"
OFF TO SEE RAFT
"Listen, baby-boy," I snaps,
"there amt nothin' strange
about it. I'm off for an inter
view with George Raft, and
mean to be treated like a lady
or else! I'painted this black eye
on, and if I do say it myself
it's a pretty slick job. When
Raft sees this he'll know amt
no softie to be tossed around like
he does them molls in the
movies. AS for this red feather
hat and tight-fittin' satin gown
it's just about right, amt it?
And how's the lingo?"
Gee, Miss Martin, you'll be
knock-down!"
I'll be a What?"
you'll be a Knockout"
yeah. That's what I thought
you said"
So climbs in the studio limou,
sine without trippin' on any
thing and we're off for George
Rats apartment. Well, I feel
little nervous and keep thinkin'
to myself, Maybe I oughta told
the manager of the Beverly-Wilt-
shire so if I don't show later
he can tell the coppers."
HEART IN MOUTH
Pretty soon the drivers un-
loadin' me at Rats apartment
house. I goes in and looks
around the lobby. I don't see
no guys with their hands in
their pockets, so I goes on up
stairs, and rings the bell at his
door just like I seen so many
mollS do in the movies. My
hearts beatin' so them damned
red feathers is tosSin' back and
forward just like the "Hurri-
cane" is blowin' down the corri-
dor. George Raft, the gangster
The squint-eyed guy who looks
over two black barrels right
down at you sittin' in the third
row. George Raft, who likes
'em and leaves EN-" Whose
"Dead-eye Dick" pan appears
silently, stealthily over the win
dow sill while the rival gang
leaders back is turned. The
feathers waved to and fro. If
I'd only told the manager!
George Raft, Who
The door opened a little bit
and then all the way. A colored
boy, wearing horn-rimmed
glasses as big as his face, stood
there showing every one of his
teeth.
Miss Martin? Come right in.
MIR. Rats eXpectin' you"
20. K" I look around. Now
the DRAWN room amt bad. In
fact, well, I begin to wonder
about my eye.
Mister Raft'll be right down.
Would you have some tea or a
coca-cola while you waltz"
TAKES NO CHANCES
mo thank! Nix" says I,
mix" So, fix me up with
Mickey Finn, huh? Well, was
too wise for that!
The boy scrammed. I jumped
UP and took a look at my pan.
That eye was goin' too far! So
I grabbed my handkerchief and
wiped it off. Now kid, you amt
so bad lookin' yourself!
A light, cat-like step was
coming up the hallway. And
there before me stood Mr.. Raft,
so help me! Sharp, intent,
slightly suspicious eyes that hit
me and went on out through
the back of my head. They
looked gray, and then as he
came closer. I saw they were
light brown-eyes of a color I
had never seen before. Dark
circles und sr them. A lurking,
blush tone where his beard
would be if he hadn't just
shaved. Long, Thin nose, with
nostrils ready to flare-like a
race horse. He smiled, and ex-
tended his hand
How do you do, Miss Martin.
It's nice Of you to come. It's
so beautiful this afternoon you
really should be out in the sun.
shine instead of workinp''