The daily monitor leader. [volume] (Mount Clemens, Mich.) 1942-19??, 1942-11-21


back tutored the center.
"She's awful sensitive" Duane
would say, for instance. when
you handle the controls, Heavy,
don't slam 'em over like you
were hazing steers into a box
car. Treat 'em delicate, like kiss
ing a girl"
Heavy scoffed. How many
girls you ever kissed?"
Never mind. But ! got ideas
about how to do it, see"
Ideas don't count there. Ac-
tion does"
= but we amt kissing girls
now, we're flying. This takes
brains"
"Unh."
The two friends could sass
each other endlessly and love it
Duane was a smooth aviator. In
a few weeks he'd get his bars,
and he wanted Heavy Under
wood. to be graduated with him.
He knew, too, that he'd be miss
ing the big holes Heavy usually
made in enemy football lines. He
tried not to think of the State
game tomorrow.
They came down around 3
o'clock, and together went to
their quarters. Another cadet
saw them.
Hi, Hogan, somebody left a
phone call for you" he called
out. Some dizzy dame"
"All danes are dizzy" I'm
derwood proclaimed.
This one acted special"
"Who was it," Duane asked
casually. Mrs. Hale? l got a
dinner date there. Hope she is
not breaking it. Me, / go for
home cooking"
Wasn't the widow" the ca
Diet said. Seriously, Hogan, she
said for you to call at once.
Said it was an emergency. 1t
was Coach Miller's daughter,
Blythe!"
"Hey!" That seemed to startle
Duane. He dropped all easy
manner at once, strobe inside to
the phone.
He couldn't get Blythe at
home. And at Pops office all he
could hear was wild hubbub
of masculine voices. Whoever
answered just said, "She amt
around"
But-emergency.
Blythe had said it was emer-
gency. He tore through a shower
bath and into fresh uniform,
then quickly got little soiled
and sweaty again by running to
catch a jeep.
Hustle me over to the ath-
letic field, will you. kids?" he
begged of the jeep driver.
Whats in it, general?" his
buddies wanted to know.
mo foolin', hurry! Ill-I'l
make it up, you Nazis!"
That of course was an insult.
The driver swung his wheel. The
jeep circled back the other way.
Come on, I'm not fooling!"
Duane meant it now. II take it
back that Nazi stuff. You're
gentlemen and scholars, see.
Drinks tonight are on me. Hur-
ry, damn it, hurry"
Drinks, eh? Sure?"
Sure! You blackmailers!"
The driver swung back again.
There was some more high razZ-
ing. But they dumped Duane out
unceremoniously at the gym
nasium.
He went straight to Pops Of
flee, waded through the 20 or
30 men crowding around there.
Promptly he was introduced to
a brusque stranger named Lou
mann.
Look it this, T. j." Loumann
said, holding Duane's hand and
appraising him carefully. This
is him! The same one! Hogan!
T. j., get an option on him for
after the war. Get it quick. May
be we can arrange one picture
with him even before the"
where's Blythe Miller?" Du-
ane broke in. Where is she?"
Look, son, I'm Loumann of
World Features. I'm signing you
for"
Where's BLY, Pop, where is
Bly," Hogan roared a bit now.
Nobody knew. Summers, the
newspaperman, looked self-con-
sciously around. He had been
when Blythe a bit ago. But evil
IDENTIFY she had left.
Duane left, too, nodding a
promise to talk later. The men
resumed their chatter as Duane
shut tie door. Outside, he wasn't
quite sure where to look for her.
Hale wasn't there in