The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1939-12-02
. SERIAL STORY
5 WOULD KILL
Continued From PAGE onel
BY TOM HoRNER

CONTINUED From Page onel
death be would stin retain his
power over them. They would
suffer. Only Henthorne could have
conceived such : vengeance.
Deliberately BE folded the paper.
then rising quickly from his chair.
he hurried across the study. pulled
= bookcase away from the wall and
kncit beside q small safe. lie
twisted the knob and In : moment
the door swung open. Light from
the desk lamp riisten<d On the
metal.
Benthorns paused. undecided.
First place Helen and Joey
would look he said. half aloud.
He stepped to the window. pull
ed back the drawn shade. Rain
drummed increasingly against the
psnes. A fresh. cool draft swept
into the room rs he raised the sash
few inches.
A flash OF lightning revealed the
dark-eoated figure a . policeman.
huddled against the gate. There
WAS another IN the garage. q third
At the rear driveway. Benshorne
knew. Thunder shook the house.
ratified the window.
The ticking OF the clock above
the fireplace echoed throughout the
ensuing silence.
Only few minutes more, Ben
thorne thought.
There was yet one chance only
one-but he would take IL. Quick
ly he returned to the desk, turned
the lamp shade 20 that the light
fell more upon the closed door.
He erumpled the paper IN hAs
hand, tossed II INTO the waste
Ne opened = desk drawer.
took out q revolver. The safety
He replaced n. carefully
leaving the drawer open.
Pulling his chair back from the
circle of light, yet still within
reach Of the gun In the drawer.
Arnold Benthorne sat down, wait
ed for his murderer.
He could see the headlines
Bloody Benthorne Murdered.
That would be old Parker's sheet.
They hated him, too. Fought his
tried to trap HIM. But
never quite succeeded.
''Benthorns. Financier, Found
Dead" Good old conservative
Carter Smith. wishy-washy. Afraid
to call a spade spade. Benthorne
admitted he liked the Parker's
paper better than thu Smiths
sheet. That gang over at parker's
had courage. That's what 1t takes.
That's what II took To make Ar
mold Benthorne.
He saw a lad of 10. thin. clothed
In castoffs. crying IN a doorway.
He saw an older boy. heavier.
stronger, taunting the weeping lad.
Funny that he should remember
now. The older boy. Billy Watson.
had challenged his right to sell
papers on that corner. Arnold
his name was not Benthorne then
had refused to fight. had run
away In terror.
Another picture came to mind.
Billy's face. disappearing beneath
the waters Of the river. Arnold
had run screaming to the nearest
policeman: men had dived INTO the
river for Billy's body. The crowd
praised Arnold--he had done all
he could. Even Billy's mother WAS
nice TO him, after her hystericai
crying had stopped.
They never found Billy's body.
II was just as well. Somebody
might have wondered about those
bruised knuckles-bruised IN Ar
mold pounded Billy's fingers ~ he
chung To the dock.
The papers would not tell that
story tomorrow.
Eo-there would be columns
about Arnold Benthorne's phenom-
snal rise In the business world.
They would tell how dying stocks
revived under his magical touch,
how he pyramided his wealth into
millions There would be the story
II his vast factories. his thousands
of employees. His charities would
be mentioned, and the scholarships
MS wealth had made possibls.
There would be pictures, too. Of
- dark-haired. fiftyish.
his cold. piercing eyes staring out
from the lean hardness Of his face.
He hoped they would use that pic
ture he had had made last month
the one the photographer said
made him look like a dictator.
Helen's picture would be back