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Show flCTlON CORNER 1 WV I HARD GUYS "1 P By MILT0N BRACKER THE dead man's foot protruded from the blanket like a discarded dis-carded boot. A pan of water rested on the sidewalk; they had tried to do something for him, without being able to. Just an ordinary sldestreet, a speeding car, a rat-tat-tat and that was all. Another not-so-big shot was through. Five minutes after the cops came, a squeaky sedan Jolted to a step at the opposite curb. Half-a-dozen men . piled out. ."Reporters," someone In the crowd decided. The newcomers took in the scene in a matter-of-fact way, then swarmed about the lieutenant and the homicide squad man and plied them with questions. One of the newspapermen was chewing gum. The others were smoking and one rotund fellow laughed raucously at something the homicide squad man said. Soon a few broke away and headed for the drugstore across the street with the blue and white telephone tele-phone emblem outside. Within twenty minutes all of them squeezed back into the car. "S'long, Mac, see y'ln church," the man at the wheel yelled Jo the lieutenant as the gears meshed. "Hard guys," the man in the crowd muttered, as the machine turned the corner. "You said it," his companion agreed, dryly. An hour later, Joe Melsner of the City' News Federation, "Old Man" of the borough's police reporters, left the smoky-walled pressroom on the ground floor of the Supreme Court Building to buy an afternoon paper. Johnny Hennessy, of the Globe, the kid of the shack, sat in a corner figuring out his expense account. Jim Relde, of the Post- Flash, Nason, of the Mall, Cohen, of the Reflector and Lenox, of the Home Press, with a few of the usual pressroom hangers-on, were at the inevitable rummy game. Opposite, Delany, of the Star, legs stretched majestically across his desk and feet high In the air, sat back reading read-ing a fat book with a scarlet cover and yellow edges. Levito, who was with an up-county paper, fidgeted in a phone booth, waiting to "clean up" the shooting story. A voice thundered in the corridor. The others looked up; they always did when Melsner spoke. He was pointing to something huddled at the doorway. "Now what d'ya call this?" the Old Man grunted, stooping over. He picked up the cringing something some-thing and deposited It gingerly on his desk,' a massive roll-top affair with "Private: Keep Out!" on it in forbidding letters. The "something" was a very tiny dog, a bedraggled puppy that looked as If it hadn't eaten in at long as it hadn't bathed. Its eyes were red-rimmed, as if with weeping. But there was a pink spot on the end of the moist black nose. And the ; eyes themselves sparkled, giving a pert look to the whole tangly bundle. Hennessy stopped pondering. Delany De-lany tossed his book aside, and both ambled over. Relde turned his head from the card table. "The mutt probably has fleas," he remarked. "Keep it offa my desk." As if understanding, the puppy turned to its critic appeallngly. Melsner laughed gruffly, Ignoring the complaint "It's a cute-lookln' mutt at that, ain't it, kid?" the Old Man winked to Hennessy. "Send out and we'll give it a feed." One of the ever-present bootblacks boot-blacks was dispatched across the street In a minute or two, the pooch was sipping milk and sniffing sniff-ing chopmeat, oblivious to further criticism, or his audience. "We'll call him Ginger," Hen-nessy Hen-nessy suggested. "Lookit the Are in his eyes, will you?" Ginger yapped appreciatively, provocatively. That finished the card game. Relde, the most die-hard of the players, threw down his gummy cards, and with the others, gathered around Mels-ner's Mels-ner's desk. Fondly they watched the grimy little mutt push his snoot into the worm-like chopmeat Two days later, Ginger was part of the life of the shack. A bootblack had been commissioned to give him a bath, to provide a lined box for a bed, to continue general caretaklng. While the men were out on stories-holdups, stories-holdups, suicides, fires, whatnot- Ginger tripped around Impatiently, until they came back. Then he greeted them Joyously, with quick, short barking yelps. The pressroom was crowded one sultry afternoon, crowded with sweaty men in shirtsleeves. At the card table, next to RelAe, was Al Brown, a thick -necked hardware clerk who spent his idle hours with what he called the "newshounds." Ginger, temporarily deserted, sniffed in and out of the chair legs, feeling for . Reide, who always petted him. The dog rubbed against Brown's trousers by mistake. "Why, the the startled clerk swore. He reached down, picked up the pup clumsily, and tossed him carelessly to the floor about a yard away. "Wonder you guys wouldn't keep animals outa here." he growled, drawing a card. "You'd think it was a zoo." Nobody replied. Hennessy looked up queerly from his typewriter. Ginger, not having sensed the rebuff, re-buff, returned to the table. Again he brushed Brown's trousers. As if having anticipated the annoyance, the clerk kicked vigorously. There was a sharp squeal, then Ginger, living up to his name, bit Brown roared, grabbed the pooch from his leg, and before anyone could protest, hurled him with crushing force against the wall. There was a crunch, then a whimper. whim-per. Every eye in the place turned to the battered little body on the floor. But in a split second, every eye was glued on the centre of the room, "Hennessy caught the clerk with a hard left to the Jaw." and Ginger was forgotten. Hennessy Hen-nessy has sprung from his chair like a starting sprinter, yanked Brown from his seat, overturning the table at the same time and smashed a hard flst to the outsider's Jaw. Brown reeled, regained his foot-ing, foot-ing, swung, and missed. Nason and Delany started to Intervene, but Melsner, who had taken everything in quietly, stopped them with "a move of his hand. "Let 'em go a while," he said, grimly. The others backed away. Thoroughly aroused. Brown lunged at his lighter rival, who danced aside Just fast enough. As the clerk plowed by, the reporter grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, swung him around, and sent him sprawling away with another punch that cracked against his Jaw. Brown shook his head, spat, then went for Hennessy again. The result re-sult was still another crack; be could feel his eye swell as if air had been pumped around it Clearly Clear-ly he was no match at boxing for the fire-eyed "newshound" who sidestepped side-stepped -and stung him so deftly. He dropped back, then plunged low like a football player and threw Hennessy to the floor. Again Nason and Delany leaped forward to Interfere, but the Old Man, an intense gleam in his eyes, restrained them. It looked bad for the reporter. Brown pressed his advantage, bore down with his full weight One of the newspaperman's shoulders was aown, the other twisted consul-slvely consul-slvely as the panting fellow on top sought to wrench it into the dirt of the floor-boards. Then suddenly one of Hennessy'i legs appeared, entwined en-twined about the body of his foe. the other leg applied pressure from beneath, and a perfect wrestler'a "scissors" hurled the heavier man to the side, almost reversing the positions. The knotted pair whirled crazlly across the floor like a two-headed flend. They crashed into Melsner's desk, upsetting a bottle of purple ink, which spilled over both of them. Then they tore apart, and each staggered to his feet a livid mess. Brown wiped his brow, smearing It gootesquely with sweat, ink, and blood. He lunged again, but for the last time. Hennessy, his whole frame taut for one blow, poised like a matador and as the clerk rushed In, brought his left flst forward and up like a lead mallet It caught the hardware clerk on the point of the chin, and he went down for good. From the corner, a faint bark signalized Ginger's approval, and Jolted the wide-eyed onlookers to their senses. Ten minutes later, a few blocks down, Brown was telling his boss how he'd been '-'mobbed" in a card game brl with a "half-dozen" reporters. re-porters. "I told you to keep away from those fellows," he was told. "They're hard guys." In the pressroom, Relde held a blue bowl and Delany held Ginger. The others were clustered around, beaming. The puppy's bruised side was bandaged clean around his fat little middle, and tied with a tunny bow on top, like a Christmas parcel "Win ya look at the runt go tot that milk, will ya?" Melsnet grinned at Hennessy. |