The Waterbury Democrat., 1938-08-22

"Kleptomaniac" cried Sally, in dismay. Well, that's the last straw. What on earth are we going to do with her?"
 Kinks pondered.
 "Why do anything?" he said, at last. "Kleptomaniacs aren't dangerous. They don't know why they take things or what they take or where they put 'em. They're just sort of unconscious.
 Delightful people to have around" Sally murmured.
 At this point Mrs. Clipstack seized her broom and stumped out. Mrs. Clipstack was disgusted with the "goings-on."
 It's tough luck" Kinks said. But you know our motto. "The customer is always right We'll just have to return whatever she pinches and say nothing. Can't afford to lose paying guest"
 "Oh, Lord" waited Sally. I'm entirely surrounded by lunatics and gangsters. What am I going to do?"
 You could marry me-" Kinks suggested.
 And live with lunatic the rest of my life? If you remember, MT. Parker, you founded this asylum" But as she said 1t, her blue eyes seemed to melt suddenly.
 Sally's agitation might have been increased had she known that, at the precise moment when MT. Bull Griffin was informing them of the loss of his revolver, an unlovely in- dividual was sneaking into the Pres ton grounds. He wore a cloth cap pulled over his eyes and his pitted face bristled with a three days growth of rust-colored stubble. MT. Red Scala was a henchman in the gang headed by the Little Cheese. And he had driven the car which had pursued Messrs. Griffin and Spaldini into the Pennington Park CT Restatorium.
 Because one Nick the Ferret, his companion on that occasion, had been so impudent as to stop bullet with his right shoulder, they had been obliged to retreat. But after driving Nick the Ferret back to the city, Mir Scala had re- tuned to Connecticut the following night. MT. Scala had an excellent reason for wishing to track down Bull Griffin.
 Recently, due to one or two pec- cadtllos that smacked of the double cross, MT. Scala had incurred the displeasure of the Little Cheese Wherefore, it behooved him to get back into the good graces of his liege lord. And the best way was to assist materially in the rubbing out of Bull Griffin.
 From minor and disloyal member of the Griffin gang, MT. Scala had learned that Bull had interests in Connecticut, especially in New Haven. And since the minor member had informed him that MT. Griffin had not returned to the Bronx on the day following the shooting near Winstock, MT. Scala concluded that Mir. Griffin still lurked in the Nutmeg state.
 Accordingly, for several days, he had reconnoitered in the vicinity of New Haven and in the sur rounding country. And this after noon his efforts had been re- warded. Driving on the main highway, with the cloth cap well down over his eyes, he had been amazed to perceive Messrs. Griffin and Spaldini ambling unconcerned- ly along the road. MT. Scala had stopped his car and watched from afar. To his surprise they had turn ed off on that little side road which ran to the house where the gun battle had taken place.
 MT. Scala had waited till they were out of sight, then parked his car and stolen along the river bank. From behind a large bush at the end of Mrs. Preston's garden, he beheld Bull Griffin himself, in con- verse with young woman and a young man. And Bull was In his shirtsleeVes, just like one of the family. MT. Scala leapt to the not unnatural conclusion that MT. Grif- fin was not only living here in this house, but was hand-in-glove with the inmates.
 It was all he wanted to know. Backing furtively out of Mrs. Preston's garden, he slunk along the river to his car. Climbing hastily in, he headed for New York.
 The reason that MT. Scala did not shoot MT Griffin from the shrubbery and so divide the glory of his demise with no man is simple. MT. Scala was not an honest-to-goodness gunman. He feared guns. They were always going of unexpectedly and they upset his nerves. AS stool pigeon, an informer a stooge, and
 .----------------- --F.------ -