The daily monitor. (Mount Clemens, Mich.) 1940-1942, 1941-06-25
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reen from q drug store and she
tells him she is sorry, but Mr..
Fitzwater IL going to take her to
lunch on q matter of business
and that he will do the same
every day for a week or 50.
When Angus gets back on the
street, he has a strange and un-
comfortable feeling. For the
first time in his life, he has a
thirst for something stronger
than pure grapejuice. He turns
into a doorway and enters a
smoke filled room with a bar
stretched from the curtained
window about halfway along
one wall.
The bartender slaps a rag on
the mahogany surface of the bar
and mops up. "What'll it be-"
Cider" says Angus. A scrag-
ely looking guy near the end of
the bar gets q coughing at and
blows beer foam all over his
vest.
The bartender Is thinking how
he could have learned the
plumbers trade 30 years ago If
he'd used his head. Look"
says he, "are you tryin' the
funny? We don't sell no cider
here"
"All right" says Angus. Gin
ger ale."
The bartender squints at An
gus another full minute before
he pours something out of a tall
bottle under the bar and slides
the glass to Angus.
It is some time before Angus
notices the rat-face little man
who has left the table in the
dark corner and is standing next
to him. Three big fellows are
standing behind the little guy.
Have one on me-" says the
little guy, whose gray hat Is
pulled down halfway over his
eyes. Angus is glad to be nei-.
ghborly. He drinks up his
ginger ale and pushes his glass
toward the bartender. Spike
Nudge is the name," says the
stranger. "You look like some
body's been kicking you in the
teeth"
81 don't feel so good" says
Angus. 81 amt got a job, and
I'm broke and guess I lost my
girl and I just got outa jail"
"Whew!" says Spike, respect
fully. Maybe you wanta talk it
over with us. Maybe we kin
help you. These is my buddies.
didn't get the name"
Angus MacPhillips."
Glad to know va, Angus.
This Is Butch McGillicuddy and
Hoimon the Hoist and Trigger
Tim-friends of mine"
Angus shakes hands all
around. Butch looks like q
Texas steer. He is the kind who
doesn't talk. He just makes
rumbling noises through his
nose. Hoimon the Hoist is not
so big up and down, but he has
plenty of padding to the east and
west and the top of his head
looks like the end of a soup
bone. Trigger Tim is tall and
thin and businesslike.
SPIKE says, "A husky guy
like you don't MEDIA worry
about a job. How'd'ya like to
work for me?"
Angus looks suspicious. "A
job, you mean?"
"Sure. Easy work, good pay.
II isn't every day ! can find q
guy who's built like a battle
ship"
Angus brightens up. What do
I do, Spike?"
Spike looks at the dead-pan
faces of the other mugs who are
examining their drinks. I'll
explain" says Spike. This
burg is filed with lots of people
who amt got no scruples. They
amt got no respect for the law"
Now there are a lot of COM
mission merchants In the city
who sell thousands of dollars
worth Of broccoli every day.
Sometimes these broccoli dealers
get slugged or their commission
houses are wrecked or someone
pours kerosene over the broc-
coli. So the Bib Boss, Luigi
Castaloni, forms an association
and the dealers pay us to protect
them. Get it,"
Angus Is looking thoughtful.
"You want me to protect these
broccoli dealers-like a police
mani"
Spike drums on the table.
Something like cop, yeah.
Only you won't have to do any
Of the rough work-that is, the
protecting. All you'll have to
do Is to collect money. See,
sometimes these broccoli mer-
chants forget how much we pro-
tect them and they wapta WEIGH
about payin' up. Well, figger
IL they get one look at you"
Angus spirits have scared.
It'll feel kinda good doing