The Omaha guide. (Omaha, Neb.) 1927-19??, September 03, 1932, ILLUSTRATED FEATURE SECTION, Page 2, Image 6

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    «d, I'm going to tell you.”
"What?" queried Jones sus
“I'm going to clean up your bad,
bad little racket so it won't tick
so 'cud."
i “Yeah?” Jones sneered.
“Yeah,' Pete replied, nonchalant
ly lighting a cigarette.
Carlson said nothing but sat
looking off over the floor. Sud
denly he turned, “Listen, Wilson,
you can't buck this racket, it’s too
much for you. Furthermore, some
body has given you the wrong im
pression of us.”
“Well, ain't that too bad,” Pete
said sympathetically.
“Now, I'm a business man,” Carl
son went on, “and I believe you
and I can do Business. I got cer
tain interests that I want to keep
under cover and I can easily make
it worth your while. Say about
five thousand dollars?”
“Is there that much money in
sure, Carlson smiled cunningly
thinking that he had Pete going his
way. "I could make that seven
thousand, if you see my point—.”
"Yeah.” Pete cut in, “I see your
. point all right Carlson. You want
me to hang around for a while,
then go back and turn in an okeh
report. Huh?”
“That's it!” Carlson exclaimed.
“I want to—.”
“Well, nothing doing. “Pete in
terrupted him, “I want to—have
my fun, you know,” he added grin
“You'll git yo’ fun, feller,” Jones
said darkly, “but you won’t want
th’ kind yo’re goin t’ git.”
“Sure enough?” Pete queried.
"You don't mean to say,” Carlson
asked, apparently surprised, “that
you refuse?”
“Sure,” Pete replied, “why not?”
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| “Then you’re a damn fool!” Carl
son exploded hotly.
“A helluva lot mor’n that,” Jones
said savagely.
“Well, well, well,” Pete grinned
at the two men before him. “I ask
you, is th>t nice?”
Just then Sally returned to the
table and the talk drifted into
other channels. Pete could see,
though, that Carlson was worried.
Jones glared darkly at him, as if
he had a mind to put him out the
way, right then and there.
“Oh!” Sally exclaimed suddenly,
looking at her watch. “I have to
be going now. I-”
“I’m not ready to leave yet,
Sally,” Carlson interrupted.
“That’s all right,” Pete grinned.
“I’ll take her home.”
“That’ll be fine,” Carlson smiled.
“You can use my car.”
Carlson's change of manner
somewhat mystified Pete. “Thanks,”
he replied as he arose to go. “but
we won’t need it.”
“Well, think it over, Wilson,”
Carlson said in a hearty tone. “You
can’t go wrong if you accept.”
“You think it over,’ Pete replied
as he and Sally left the table.
“What's th’ idea, Carlson?” Jones
asked guftly as they watched Sally
and Pete leave the room. “Tryin’
t’ play thet bo up t’ Sally?”
“Why not?” Carlson asked, lean
ing back in his chair and lighting
a black cigar. “He falls for her.
and if we can’t get him to lay off,
she can. See?”
“I git ya,” Jones grinned wick
Outside, Sally and Pete got in a
“Say,” he asked her suddenly as
the car rolled down the driveway,
“what’s Carlson to you?”
She smiled mischievously at him.
“Why do you ask me that?”
“I want to know, please.” Pete
begged, taking her hand in his.
"well, sne replied alter an un
successful attempt to release her
hand, “he used to be very friendly
with my mother before she died,
and since I didn’t have any rela
tives, he has been awful kind to
me. It was through him that I
got the job I have now.”
“Phew!” Pete exclaimed, much
relieved. “Just a sort of self-ap
pointed guardian, huh?”
"Uh-huh,” she answered, slightly
frustrated, for Pete had both of her
hands now.
“I never was that lucky,” Pete
said suddenly. “My mother died
when I was small and my father
left me in a children’s home in
Sanford, Virginia. You see I’ve
been on my ov hook for a long
time. Funny, ain’t it?” He went
on: “I mean the way we both have
something in common and the way
we sort of take to each other?”
“Uh-huh,” she nodded.”
Pete sighed expressively.
“You k ow, I have known you
only a few hours, yet I feel like I
have known you all my life."
“I—I feel that way, too, Pete,’
Sally said in a wee sweet voice thal
thrilled him through and through.
Pete sighed again. “I kind of wist
something would happen. Yor
j-knowY’ he went on, “fire, a fight
'or something that would give me
a chance to save you. I mean a
chance to do something big foi
1 you."
“Silly,” she said laughing light
ly. “Look, we’re home now."
Neither one had noticed that the
'taxi had been standing still for the
last five minutes.
The driver looked back and
I grinned. “Take yo’ time, feller;
th’ meter ain’t got t’ a dollar yet.”
They all laughed at that.
“Well, Sally,” Pete said finally,
after dismissing the taxi, “how
about tomorrow afternoon, or this
afternoon rather?” he added grin
ning, for it w’as then about two
o'clock in the morning.
"All right, come around about
four. I go to church services every
Sunday morning.”
“No,” Pete protested. “You mean
about one o’clock.”
He wanted to spend as much
time as possible with her. “We
can have dinner together, then,” he
After quite a little arguing, it was
finally settled that he could call
for her at two o'clock.
Back at his hotel, Pete reluc
tantly switched his mind from Sal
ly to Carlson.
Carlson evidently was in some
thing up to his neck, Pete reflect
ed, to offer seven thousand to be
let alone. Well, he had never ac
cepted “hush money” from anyone
and he wasn’t going to start now.
“No, Carlson,” he said half aloud.
“I was sent to clean out your
racket and that’s exactly what I
am going to try like hell to do.”
With that settled, he took a stiff
drink of scotch and went to sleep,
dreaming of Sally.
Sunday afternoon passed all too
quickly for Pete. He and Sally had
dinner together and took a long
drive in his roadster. He get a big
kick out of seeing her drive his car.
She did, too. Pete was all for ask
ing her how she would like to
drive a little apartment. In fact,
he did hint at it, but Sally tact
fully avoided the hints each time.
Nevertheless, Pete was happy just
to be near her.
“You know,” he said suddenly
as they were returning to town, “I
never thought a guy like me would
ever fall for this soft stuff.”
“You aren't sorry, are you?” Sally
“Am I sorry?” Pete bellowed. “Hell
—excuse me. I mean you know I
Sally interrupted him with a lit
tle significant* cough.
Consequently, Pete spent the re
mainder of the drive and a consid
erable part of the evening trying
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I to convince her that he had never
thought of being sorry, much to
Sally's secret amusement.
After leaving her at her home
that evening, she claiming an en
gagement with some friends, Pete
took a taxi out to the Black and
Tan Club.
Practically the same sight that
he had witnessed the night before,
greeted his eyes. Carlson and Jones
were nowhere in sight. He seated
himself at a table and the same
waitress approached him who had
served them last night.
“Milk?” she queried smiling.
“Milk,” Pete replied, grinning
back at her, for she was a cute lit
tle brownskin girl.
One or two heavily painted,
loose-hipped women passed slowly
by his table giving 1 im the “C’mon”
eye. Pete politely ignored them,
Just then Carlson came from a
little door at one end of the room.
He saw Pete and turned toward his
table, with a wide smile on his
“Well, back again, eh?” he greet-|
ed Pete, seating hiw.-elf ar* pull
ing out the inevitable cigar.
“Yeah,” Pete replied easily. “I’m
kind of interested in your joint,
well,’’ Carlson began, ignoring
Pete's intended hint and pulling
an envelope out of his pocket;, “here
you are, Wilson. There’s eight
thousand in cold cash. I managed
to put another extra grand in the
bargain just to show you that we
mean well-”
“Carlson,” Pete cut in, "you might
as well put that dough back, be
cause it’s no go. See? I'm going to
clean you out if you’re in wrong.
Of course, if ■ don t find anything
out the way, you wo..’t be bothered.
But get the idea out of your head
that you can bribe me.”
“You’re,”- Carlson replied.
“Damn right I am!” Pete explod
ed hotly. “But I wouldn’t take any
of your money to save you from
going up!”
“All right,” Carlson replied, “keep
your shirt on. But I'n. warning
you to lay off.”
“Save it!” Pete snapped.
The next day, Pete went ar:und
to see Sally and found her in a
pensive mood.
“What’s the trouble, Sally?” he
asked. “Did your kitten die?”
“Listen, Pete.” Sally began some
what confused. “I—I hear that you
are trying to get Mr. Carlson into
trouble. Don’t Pete. Please, for
my sake, don’t. He’s been so good;
| to me that I almost look upon him1
jas being a relative. And I—Icould
'n’t bear to think that you had got
ten him into any trouble.”
"So!” Pete exclaimed. “That’s his
game, eh? Using you to get me to
lay off.”
"I—I don’t understand, Pete?”
“Well, listen, I was sent down
here to clean Carlson out if I find
anything on him, and that’s exact
ly what I intend to do.”
“But listen, Pete. Carlson would
n’t do anything unlawful.”
“No? That oily guy would do
anything,” Pete replied hotly. The
fact that she was trying to pro
tect Carlson was making him mad.
“Naturally, you don’t want to see
him get into trouble. Hell, I don’t
myself. If you think I get a big
kick out of putting a guy behind
the bars, you're all wrong. It's just
my job, that's all. And as long as
it's my job. you or nobody else can
save Carlson, if I get something on
It went on like that for -.bout an
hour. Finally she told him that if
he persisted in making trouble for
Carlson, he need not try to see her
Bacx at his hotel, Pete strode up
and down his room with long, quick
strides, stopping now and then to
drink from the bottle of Scotch.
So it had come to that. Carlson
had used his influence to get Sally
try to make him lay off. And she,
thinking Carlson was right, was
playing exactly the way Carlson
wanted her to. He hated to think
of giving up Sally just because it
was his job to clean Carlson’s
racket out. She was more prec
ious to him than any detective job
or cleaning out Carlson either. II
only Sally wasn’t so positive that
Carlson was Innocent. Well, she
had made herself clear anyway. IJ
he persisted in going after Carlson
she wouldn't see him again. Peti
thought over that and smilec
grimly to himself. "It’s either m;
duty or Sally!" he said half aloud
"and the only way I can see clear
ly is to do my duty. Maybe afte:
I catch that guy red-handed, shi
might look at things from a differ
ent angle. Furthermore, if sh
likes me—aw, what the hell!” H
gave the whole problem up in dis
That evening he took a taxi out
to the Black and Tan Club. In
stead of going in the front, how
ever, he slipped around the side of
the building. Crouching behind a
tree, he looked to sea whether any
one had noticed him. Apparently
no one had. From where he stood
he could see both the front and
back of the place. He noticed a
small gravel pathway that led up
to a door at one corner of the
house, under the rear porch
“Now I wonder what's behind
that door? ’ Pete mused. After
looking carefully around, he darted
over to the door. It was locked
He pulled a couple of keys and
another instrument of similar
shape out of his pocket. In a few
seconds, he had the door unlocked.
With a small, powerful flashlight
in one hand and his gun in the
other, he carefully opened the door
and slipped noiselessly into the
pitch-dark room.
He closed the door and listened
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