Roseburg news-review., April 25, 1936, Image 13

Between The Lines , By Grant Milton Sassaman
When Reporter
I AM Indebted to Lafferty for
moat of this; Lafferty, the as
sistant night city editor. He was
in the oSice the night that Bill
McDade underwent his baptism
of remorse.
It happened a long time ago on
a hot summer night when neither
air nor news was stirring. Ten
years ago tonight, to be exact.
To understand how the thing
could have happened, one must
know McDade, LafTerty explained.
McDade, he said, was young and
good-looking and as brilliant as
he was courageous. The kind of
fellow who would face a tiring
squad and calmly jot notes upon
his cuff while the executioners
aimed their weapons.
In those days the general as
signment men on the Morning
Call were paid on apace rates.
McDade was a space writer and
he let his imagination carry him
away sometimes, according to
Lafferty. His nimble mind and
long lean fingers would convert a
bonfire into a conflagration and
a riot Into a civil war.
But that's the trouble with
space writing. It always did en
courage padding; to the point at
times, when you couldn't tell fact
from fiction. But McDade got
away with it because he wrote so
convincingly. Lafferty told me
the reporter actually seemed to
believe much of the nonsense he
wrote. At least he believed it
while he was pounding it out.
ON THAT night ten years ago
Bill McDade sat at his type
writer plucking away industri
ously. The rest of the staff was
in misery, but McDade was ob
livious to the suffocating atmos
phere pressing downward like a
heavy pall.
He must have been writing
something that grazed his sense
of humor. A villainous briar was
clamped between his teeth, but
his lips were twisted into a half
grin.
Whatever It was he had been
writing, McDade stopped at once
when Ogden, who was night city
editor then, called his name. With
the grin still on his face he
walked up to the city desk.
"Just got a tip from the Jani
tor up at the Arcadian Apart
ments," said Ogden. He swung
around on his swivel. "Believe it's
exclusive. Some young artist
woman took a fool notion to fall
off a third story balcony and get
killed. Don't know whether ,it's
suicide or an accident."
In an instant Ogden was busy
with the proofs on his desk. He
failed to see what Lafferty saw.
Lafferty was at the switchboard
behind Ogden. He saw McDade
wilt suddenly, as if the heat had
got him all at once, and the grin
had vanished like magic from his
lips.
Then some district reporter on
the phone was clamoring for at
tention. When Lafferty finally
looked up from the plugs, Mc
Dade had gone.
The first intimation anyone had
of McDade's return was when
Lafferty heard the mad clatter of
the reporter's typewriter over in
the corner where he had his desk.
McDade usually wrote fast and
furiously, but now he was pound
ing the keys like a stenographer
gone berserk.
Others In the office took notice
then and looked up. They saw
McDade leaning over his machine
with a face deathly white, his
fingers working like pistons. Not
once did he glance up from his
copy; not even to light the pipe
lying on the pulled-out board of
his desk.
Lafferty probably was the first
to realize something was wrong.
He missed very little that went
on In the office, Just as he missed
little going on outside of it. He's
still a hellion for details, is Laf
ferty. And like an elephant, he
never forgets.
He said McDade seemed to
grow thinner as he watched; that
the poor chap's very blood
seemed to be draining from his
veins as If to moisten the type
chattering madly across the
pages of copy. That's the way
Lafferty put It. He studied Jour
nalism at a university, and hasn't
yet been able to rid himself of
such things.
IT WAS close to midnight when
McDade handed his copy to Og
den, together with the cut liner
for the photograph he'd already
sent in to the art department
Ogden fell upon the copy vo
raciously. Time and time agali
he poised his murderous blue pen
cil as though to slash out a word
CLASSIFIED
MANUSCRIPTS WANTED
WANTED: ORIGINAL POEMS. SONGS. MMM
PuWtahm. Dopt. Ad ftmtto BS-1.. PoriUod. Ort
PERSONAL
RELIEF FOR EPILEPTICS: IMrrei tai tirxt relrW
lor buithtixl Spmalut horn and lrnml luM. All
tettws ana-mrd Mn On Drmttr. Apt 4. W0
Uhrett blTrl Wm4. Demi Mvh
McDade Wrote From His Heart A Complete Short Story
or a phrase, only to nod a grudg
ing approval and then read on.
And well lie might approve, fot
McDade had written a story that
waa to burn itself upon the minds
of its readers forever. Never be
fore had Ogden read copy on a
3tory that ran so relentlessly on
ward to its close, trailing off at
last reluctantly, like the last sob
at a grave.
McDade even had reproduced a
letter which apparently prompted
the girl to commit suicide. Ogden
let It stand, though his brow
wrinkled with puzzlement when
he read this:
". . . and all the color fled
from her face as she finished
reading her sweetheart's letter.
With bloodless lips and staring
eyes she stood motionless like
a marble goddess in the cen
ter of the room. For fully a
minute she stood thus before
moving, wraith-like, out upon
the veranda.
"Leaning over the low balus
trade, she slowly tore the let
ter into tiny fragments. They
dropped from her hands and
.fluttered like snowflakes to the
court below.
"With a moan of indescrib
able anguish she covered her
BUD: Well, another hour and
here's the first contestant to
try for the prize money. I see'by
the application that you're a "con
versation juggler."
AMATEUR: Yes, sir.
BUD: And what would that
be?
A: It means I'm a vocal con
tortionist, BUD: Um-hum now we're
getting some place. But, if I'm
not too Inquisitive, what is it that
you really do?
A: To get right down to It, I'm
a ventriloquist.
BUD: Oh, one of those fellows
who strews language hither and
elsewhere ?
A : Yes, sir. 1 can throw my
voice out and step on it.
BUD: Marvelous. And you
think that sort of entertainment
is suitable for radio?
A: From the standpoint of
economy, It's a natural.
BOD: Well, anything that will
cut .down talent costs is always
good for an amateur hour.
A: Sure I can be the whole'
hour. I just surround myself with
a strong cast of clothing store
dummies.
A t
tim
Remember the old Chinese proverb, "One picture is worth a thousand words"! The gay bird on
the left here believes in signs, but "all clothing one-half off" doesn't even Interest his limber-legged
pat, who hat found a picture that shows all clothing a good nine-tenths off.
face with her initialeVl handker
chief. Her body swayed for
ward against the railing and
toppled over it. She made no
outcry as she fell, and her
white evening gown glinted like
silver in the beams of a nor ri
led moon. , . .'
Not until he had sucked in the
last morsel did Ogden raise his
head.
"McDade!" he bellowed. "That's
the best' But McDade waa no
longer standing at the city desk.
Lafferty had looked up from his
plugs in time to see the reporter
amble listlessly from the room.
Some time later a copyboy
tossed the city edition of the
Chronicle upon Ogden's desk. He
pounced upon it like a hawk on a
chick, ready to gloat over the
rival paper's meager display of
the night's big story.
Suddenly he Jumped to his feel
with a startled oath. His face was
comic in its bewilderment and
dismay. Rushing over to the night
editor's desk, he shoved directly
in front of Wilton's horn-rimmed
spectacles that part of Down
Ing's story, which read:
"It waa believed she lost her
balance while sitting upon the
V BUD LAND IS"
BUD: Yes . . .
A: Then I act as master of
ceremonies. For each tryout I
prop one of the figures up in front
of the microphone.
BUD: I see then you just toss
the repartee over to him.
A: Exactly. All I need Is a Joi
Miller joke book. I feed the gags
and then pull the answers In one
of my assorted accents. I can even
manipulate the gong.
BUD: Do tell! But haven't you
forgotten the studio technicians?
A: No, indeed. You see, I'll
carry on the program dialogue by
talking with my Angers.
BUI ; That would eliminate the
sound, all right. But there's the
listening audience to consider.
A: Shucks, the listener could
snap off his radio and go to the
movies, couldn't he?
BUD : Not a bad Idea. And that
leaves only you to contend with.
A: Well, sure so under the
circumstances, even I wouldn't
have to show up.
BUD : I'm In favor of that.
A : And you could just mall me
the rtrlze money check out to the
house.
SOUND: BONO!
Bargain Hunters!
j sow ntg u ur:
balustrade, and fell backwards
to her death. Her body was so
battered that identification
would have been impossible if
it hadn't been for the handker
chief clutched In her hand.
"Dora Wayne, despite her
youth, was considered one of
America's most promising
women artists. She was se
cretly betrothed to William Mc
Dade, a newspaperman. , . ."
LAFFERTY said Wilton's pale
face turned a greenish hue
Without a word he got to his feet
and strode over to McDade's
desk. Lying in the confusion of
papers on the desk was an unfin
ished letter. McDade must have
snatched it hastily from the type
writer before he went out on the
story; or after he came in.
Dearest: the letter read,
By the time you yet this yon
tnuy have been amply repaid
for the scare you (are vie Uutt
week. I hardly think you've
fallen, for it though, because
you knoto what a journalistic
liar I've become.
In that case you may have
had more than a suspicion,
sweetheart, that the letter J
sent last niyht was a plain
farce. But you must admit my
bitter denunciation of you was
rather convincing. Women are '
intuitive and have the faculty
of reading between the lines
With studied care old Wilton
took off his glasses and rubbed
his eyes. Lafferty always swore
that Wilton brushed away tears.
"That explains everything,"
Wilton muttered slowly. "He
knew. He knew, while the others
only guessed."
The unfinished letter dropped
trom Wilton's fingers to the floor.
It lay there with edges curled up
wards like mocking Angers.
"You think she read between
the lines," breathed the night edi
tor tonelesaly "By God. boy. she
didn't!'
A newsroom is calm after the
deadline, like the calmness that
follows a storm. Tho quietness
was doubly Intensified now by the
dumb misery in every man's eyes
and the pity in his heart. Lafferty
said Wilton seemed to crumple
togy.;:er. He went back to ills
desk and sank limply into the
chair, mouth working sound
lesnlv Ogde.. jlcou like .1 grave;
image In the middle of the aisle,
hurt bewilderment still upon his
face. Tragedy, pain and suffering
were not new to, him. But up tc
now he had regarded death with
clinical detachment; until tonight,
when the ugly specter had stalked
unseen through this very office.
Lafferty was the first to re
cover his wits. Without saying a
word to anyone, he went out of
the newsroom and down the stairs
to the street where he hailed a
taxicab. He gave the driver the
address of the Arcadian Apart
ments and told him to keep the
pedal down.
While the speeding taxi tossed
him around on the back seat,
Lafferty shaped his plans. He
would And McDade and inveigle
him into a speakeasy. (Jet the
fellow so drunk he'd forget
everything until the keen edge of
remorse had worn off a bit.
AT THE apartment house Laf
ferty told the driver to wait.
In the hallway he found Dora
Wayne's apartment listed as C4.
He pushed the button and waited.
When the inner door buzzed, he
pushed through it anThurried up
the stairs, not bothering to look
for an elevator.
On the third floor he found a
door standing open with a ruddy
faced cop leaning against the
frame.
"Hello, Regan," said LafTerty,
glad there was a .cop on guard
he knew. "Is anybody in there?"
" 'Lo, Laffy. "The cop scratched
his chin and nodded. "Yeah. Mc
Dade's here. He was all broke up.
I put 'em to sleep."
The cop turned and re-entered
the room. Lafferty followed, clos
ing the door behind him. "How'd
you do it, Regan?" He went over
' to where McDade lay sprawled
upon a divan and looked down
pityingly upon the haggard face
Regan came near chuckling. "I
got Oswald, down at the corner,
to rig up one o' his forgctters. He
put everythin' In it but arsenic.
The janitor fetched it for me.
He's an obllgin' chap, that jani
tor." McDade's coat was unbuttoned.
Laffert.y saw that an envelope had
worked itself halfway out of the
coat's Inside pocket. He leaned
down to push it back Into place
and noticed It was sealed and ad
dressed, but not stamped.
He started to put the letter in
nls own pocket, meaning to post
It for McDade; but the name on
Mexico "Coming Into Own" As
Tourists Discover Its Wonders
THROUGH Pullman trains bring
ancient Mexico City within
four days of the Pacific Coast
cities Steaming down the coast
to Acapulco are comfortable
steamers at frequent intervals.
Passengers leave the ship at this
port, proceed by motor cars over
excellent highways to the capital
situated 7000 feet above the sea
under the snow-capped summit
of mighty Popocatepetl. After
several days in Mexico City the
return is made to the coast, touch
ing the beautiful cities of Cuer
navaca and Guadalajara. The
ride by train from Guadalajara
to Manzanillo is through mag
nificent mountain country over a
spectacular piece of railroad
building parsing the quaint city
of Tepic and Tequila, surrounded
by miles of plantations growing
the type of cactus from which
the potent liquor of the same
name Is made.
To the student of history and
ethnology, as well as to the casual
pleasure-seeking visitor, Mexico
is fascinating. Centuries before
the Spanish Conquistadors came,
ft had a civilization comparable
QUESTIONS WERE
ANSWERED. BUT-
UNIVERSITY of California pro
fessors at Berkeley aro try
ing to decide whether or not col
legians are working with their
tongues In their cheeks or well
"or something."
"Certainly the answers to some
examination paper questions
couldn't be written by stupid stu
dents -but listen to this," said
one instructor giving the follow
ing examples:
A 'hot cargo" is a "shipment ol
chorus girls!"
The Time of Henry IV was "be
tween Henry III and Henry V "
The ChriHtlan era "was a
Roman goddetis who was con
verted."
To the question "What gives uh
our rights and what rukes them
away ?" one student answered :
"God gives them to us and the
Democrats take them away."
HENS BRING HEALTH
AND WEALTH TO HIM
TO KEEP himself from thinking
of himself, Olen C. Hudson.
Han Diego, youthful vietlm of In
fantile paralysis, started raising
chickens and finds that even so
small a thing can lead to fame. He
has now n- hieved honors for h
Columbia Rock fowls in a national
egg laying contest held at Moun
tain Grove., Mo., where a pen of
A dark-haired young woman halted abruptly on the threshold.
She was Mm. strikingly beautiful, and vaguely familiar.
me envelope ruught his eye and
hold It. Miss Dora Wayne! Why.
this must be the fnta) missivo!
A low exclamation of astonish
ment fell from Lafferty's Hps.
McDade had forgotten to send it!
Unless Lafferty turned around.
"Megan." he asked excitedly.,
"were there any bits of paper,
like a torn-up letter, around the
body?"
Regan scratched his houd
thoughtfully. "I was one o' tho
llrst there," he said. 'I didn't see
any, an' thore wasn't no wind to
arry 'em away."
The other straightened up, put
ting the letter in his hip pocket.
"What's that over there?" he
asked, pointing across tho room.
In front of tho fireplace Btood an
easel bearing an unfinished can-
lo that of the Egyptians, the
Chaldees and the early Greeks.
These peoples developed amazing
iris and rafts, reared mighty
temples, towers and pyramids,
which today are the problem of
historians.
Thov had a written language of
.i:englyphlcs and the examples of
sculpture and painting reveal an
art consciousness far beyond any
thing of the time. In engineering,
in architecture and In science,
these Mayans, forebears of the
Toltccs and the Aztecs, left in
disputable evidences of their
achievements. The ruins of the
vast Tomple of the God of Rain,
not far from Mexico City, with
the adjacent pyramids of the sun
and of the moon, indicate a
mighty metropolis once nourished
here.
Mexico, our southern neighbor,
takes one back to the dawn of
time ft Is as foreign in lan
guage, in atmosphere, as any of
the countries of Europe Is pic
turesque in customs and Inhabi
tants and amazing in its variety.
It is a grand place for a winter
holiday.
five fowls laid 027 eggs In 51
weeks.
Twenty -three contests were
condurted by agricultural colleges
In America lust year, and accord
ing to the American Poultry
Journal Hudson's entry has the
distinction of having been the
highest Columbia Rock pen and
also the highest individual pen
record for all contests.
Hudson has won many blue rib
Dons on his pet hobby, and has
fouKht his .vay to health and hap
piness In the bargain.
NO, SUH! SOUTH
HAS NO CORNER
ON COON HUNTS
COON hunlin' is a line art
'round about Sacramento
tli.il is if you "know how." says
VV, A Wilson and Jac k Meehan
of that cilv. who recently bfigKed
live laccoons In two hours
With their prize coon dogs the
(Hlr went out In the Moketiinire
rtvet district one Afternoon re
cently and the rios ti e-d (K-e in
utmost no time
"It's easy when you know where
to KP them " Wilson satd. "In the
'ant I'oon.'i stay in wont let ra
tions, but in California the hrd
down in marshes and briar sec
tions." "Hides are valued at $'t and A
a'h " h ald "while the -a-casses
nhng about Sfve-U;, live
cents from those who like the
meat
- mm
vas. It waa a life size portrait of
a young woman in a white eve
ning dress.
Regan looked from the easel to
Lafferty. "An' you'd be asking me
that, Laffy?" he reproved mildly.
"Can't you see what it is?"
"I know, Regan. I know," said
the newspaperman wearily. "What
I mean is, what is it doing here?
This is no studio."
"Oh," the cop brightcnod. "Tho
janitor told mo she was finishln'
the picture here because her stu
dio's way down town. Tho girl
doin' the modclln Is havin' trou
ble with her appendix or some
thin'. She lives close by here
somewheres an' can't do too much
runnin' around. They was to fin
ish the plcturo tonight so she
could go to tho hospital tomor
row." A NOISE at the door brought
Regan and Lafferty spin
ning about. The door swung open.
A dark-haired young woman In a
pale blue dress halted abruptly on
the threshold. Sho was slim,
strikingly beautiful, and vaguely
familiar.
"What are you doing hero T
What what has happened?" She
was plainly startled at the sight
of the coatlcss newspaperman
and the uniformed cop.
Regan and Lafferty were
speechless. They stood there like
idiots, staring at her. But even In
his befuddlement Lafferty noticed
the tiny brushes the girl held In
her left hand.
A frown of impatience tinged
with apprehension, gathered on
the young woman's brow. "What
t.v it? Where is Dorothy?
"Dorothy?" echoed LafTerty.
"Yes. I was delayed down at
the studio, but Dorothy has a
key. She was to come at ten to
get some rest before starting to
pose. But why am I telling you
all this? Miss Winert Is my
model."
Then tho girl's worried eyes
wandered to the sprawled figure
on the divan. "Bill!" sho cried.
" Bill! Oh. don't tell me he's
hurt!" She ran past Regan and .
Lafferty and dropped to her
knees at the divan.
Lafferty's legs threatened to
collapse under him, but he man
aged to reach the telephone over
in the corner. As he dialed his
number he heard Regan say:
"There's nothin' wrong with 'lm,
Miss now."
"For God's sake!" barked Laf
ferty weakly when Ogden came
on the phone. "Stop tho presses 1
The dead woman fs Dorothy Wi
nert, a model. Not Dora Wayne
. . What? ... Of course I'm
sober . . . Yeah . . . Scared of an
impending operation. And cut out
t hat letter business entirely
even the fragments . . . Yep, I'm
ut the apartment now . . What
Is she doing?"
LafTerty turned around toward
the divan. Dora Wayne had her
arms around McDade. She was
kirsin him, shaking him gently
and then kissing him again.
"What is sho "doing?" echoed
LafTerty "She's resurrecting a
lead man!"
Help Kidneys
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ttftifrrta you ,v
PACE SEVEN-B