Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise. (Pocomoke City, Md.) 1921-1953, 1939-01-20

|
The somewhat ape-like Mr.. Grips,
at fifteen minutes after noon, paused
on the main floor in front of the dis
play cases of the Gift Shop.
On the heels of the departure of
Shaughnessy, the head detective, Mr..
Grips had been closeted with Herman
Weiss in his private office. Though
Herman was in thunderous mood, the
interview was highly satisfactory
from the point of view of the Gift
manufacturer.
For Pongo Cripps-the nickname be
ing tribute to his queer appearance
had been unable to sell anything to
Barclay & Weiss in the past age. He
had been worried and annoyed about it
and now he had taken the step of
going direct to the store.owner and
having it out with him. Just at the
psychological moment, as it turned
out!
If the walls of Mr.. Weiss pri-
vate office had the power of hearing,
they would surely have collapsed. For
Mr.. Weiss language-and not direct
ed to the Gift manufacturer but heard
delightedly by hinl-was composed of
the very strongest cusswords.
Action succeeded the volley. The
Great-I-Am went down on his knees
to pry into his safe. He produced
wad of bills-ten-dollar ones-and
counted them. On each he made a
tiny hieroglyphic in green or violet
the mark SO tiny that he had
to work with the aid of magnifying
glass.
Mr.. Grips looked on with interest.
He was with Mr.. Weiss here, heart
and soul.
For money was the only thing in
the world that counted. And that
commodity he had been deprived of
too long.
This would be remedied.
Swapping a rubber band around
the bill, Mr.. Weiss threw them across
his desk to Pongo: go to it, and
phone me at the Merchandisers' Club
no later than one-thirty."
In front of the display cases of the
Gift Shop, the small, sharp eyes of
Pongo Cripps sought for his quarry.
Brenda SELF saw him and turned
her back on him. It wasn't in her
scheme of things to give orders to
little tightwad like Pongo!
He skipped ninnbly around to the
other side. "Will you give me the
pleasure of lunching with me? My
cars outside"
Thanks, but can't"
"Now, listen, Brenda" He leaned
over the counter, lowering his voice,
though no one was about. It'll be
greatly to your personal advantage
to have a talk with me. You won't
be the loser. Not by long shot"
She looked at him. His left eyelid
quivered, as though giving her high
sign.
Gall right. I'll come with you"
she said shortly. "Make it some in
conspicuous place. And have your
car driven to the corner on Sixth Ave-
nue. by the cigar store. I'll meet
you there in fifteen minutes"
The Fashion Show on the stage at
one end of the Misses Dress salon
started at quarter Of three that fate
full afternoon.
Ann Delafield was there, not in the
capacity of spectator but as model for
negligees and Longing pajamas from
her own department, the mannequin
she had engaged for the occasion hav-
ing taken i'll.
Renita was also present-and SO
were many of the executives of the
store.
AS Ann swept across the stage in
flowerlike creations, she was conscious
of dark eyes regarding her steadily
from the back of the audience. Paul
Bradley was there!
Between change of garments. Re-
nita-soon to be Mrs. Gordon Gavin
had dashed into the dressing room,
where the models were assembled, and
whispered to Ann eagerly that she'd
solved the underselling business of
that line of lingerie-the buyer at
Marcus & Pickard's' had bought bales
and bales Of bankrupt stock!
give told Paul Bradley that no one
could have foreseen there would be
the identical same silk as yours sold
out for song! And it wasn't long