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Show ; CAGED' ii i i ' i i i i Courtney RyJsy Cooper : ,i ( VNi; H.-rvlr.i.) N ,i ''ur-vrlirlif t.v t:.,nriHy t:'!f" ( ' 'jj CHAPTER XIII 26 Gaunl, hold In spile of himself, Joe Harry knelt there, his body almost Hat ugalnst tin; radio now, wlille. Sae I'ay-ton I'ay-ton spoke Jn.st to film. It seemed. "And now, friends of the uir lanes. In closing our little circus program, Dayton brothers wishes you every happiness. We want to thank those of you who have been Rood enough to visit us at the festival, for your patronage and for the nice things you have said ahout the show, especially ahout my riding act. Hut I must toll you that It was not my Plea. It was originated by Mr. Joseph I'.radley, who llrst made my song and our air signature, signa-ture, 'Queen of the Sawdust King,' a success. Mr. Kradley Is no longer with our circus, hut we will always remember him for what he did and what he was to us, a fine showman, a dear friend nnd one who will always liave our failh, our good wishes and our love. This Is Sue Dayton speaking speak-ing for the Dayton Brothers circus. Good night, friends." She was gone; out of the cone speaker u new voice was sounding. ISofnrc the radio a haggard man rocked for a long moment, nellher knowing nor earing what now came over the air. There was a stare In Ids eyes, an expression, however, swiftly changing. Suddenly he whirled. "Kullliouse 1" he shouted. "You Fullhouse !" There was no answer. lie swung about, to a half-crouched position facing fac-ing the door. "Fullhouse I" There was a dominant dom-inant quality to Ids voice. "You hear luel Come In here, I've got something to say to you !" Hut there was only silence, save for the creaking of the frogs, a rustling of the foliage outside the window. "You heard me, Fullhouse. If you want tlds drilling done, you come and do It yourself. I'm through with this sort of tiling!" The silence had struck him as strange. He rose and walked swiftly ncross the room, halting at last in the doorway. "Fullhouse!" In the silence that followed, Joe Harry lieard the slightest of sounds behind him. It was merely a clicking, click-ing, the faintest of clicking, as metal struck metal, something heavy coming In easiest possible touch with the copper cop-per weather stripping of the open wiu-dow. wiu-dow. Ills head turned swiftly; all in an instant lie glimpsed It, the long, blue steel barrel, striving desperately to center on him, the gaping hole at lis end, the shadow of a face beyond, and bands clamped behind a metal drum. Joe Harry waited for no more. The light switch was at his very finger fin-ger tips, where his hand was braced against the wall. A spasmodic jerk nnd he had struck it, driving it home; at the same Instant, he dived for the floor. The room was in darkness, save for the spurting of yellow flame from the window, continuous spurting, accompanied by the rattle of machine-gun machine-gun Are as bullets sought desperately, viciously, to find an equally desperate target In tbe darkness. Ghastly calm came to the man on the floor. lie doubled his arms be neath him nnd rolled swiftly, far to one side, while above him the plaster chipped, sprinkling its dust upon him. A tinkling sound came from the hall behind, followed by the crash of glass on the floor. Now the yellowish-red spurts began to search downward, but Joe had crossed the room ; he was against the back wall, at the radio; It had come to him swiftly that it was this position wheh had held him safe for the long moments in which lie had listened to a girl's voice from far away. This was on a bad angle from the window ; it could not be reached. Again nnd again and again and again the ugly clatter echoed through the room ; acrid odors came to his nostrils. nos-trils. Then silence. With that, stumbling, stum-bling, getting his direction only by instinct, in-stinct, Joe Harry was on his feet nnd running for the front of the house. lie reached the highway and turned for town, driving madly". Miles passed, lie was driving slower now, holding the car to legal limits by sheer force of will. Ceaselessly there pouffded through his mind the thought of Full-house. Full-house. There was one chance In a thousand that he had gotten away; frightened into such desperate haste that he could give no warning. And If he had, there was but one more chance that Joe could learn of it. The light of a drug store showed on a far corner beyond the park. Joe sent the car to the curb, and forcing an appearance of nonchalance, went wiih-ln wiih-ln the store to the telephone booth. "Regis Pil'." he called. "There is no such exchange. I'll ; give you chief operator." j A few niomeiKS later. .lop !'.:irr i walked slowly from the telephone booth, to tea drug vrt !-r i:it halted. ' "That operator says there's no such telephone exchange as Regis In Washington." Wash-ington." "There Isn't," answered the druggist. drug-gist. Joe Harry's lips set suddenly. "Is there a hotel?" he asked. "Yes, the big one. You can't miss It. Straight down this street." Twenty minutes later, Joe Harry pulled the car Into a parking space anil left It with no regard to regulations. regula-tions. The brilliant lobby meant nothing noth-ing to him except a route to the elevators. ele-vators. At the ninth floor he stepped forth ami started hurriedly forward searching the door numbers, only to halt at a woman's voice. "What room number, please?' "Nine forty-two," said Joe quietly. "The name please?" "Kendall. I.. D. Kendall." The floor clerk consulted her records. rec-ords. ".No such person Is registered." "lie's here though." Joe Harry's voice had passed beyond excitement; only the thinness of It, the slight break gave Indication of wdiat went on within him. "He may not have given his name. He came In. not long ago. A thin man. Flat-chested." "Yes, but that's not his room. He's In there talking to Mr. Jamison." "Jamison?" lie glanced up nnd down the hall. "Which way Is 942?" The girl did not answer; her unconscious un-conscious glance, however, was enough. Joe Harry whirled. His right hand went to the sagging coat pocket. Cold lingers clamped upon equally cold steel. From behind him came the call of the girl that he must he announced. He went on. Nine thirty-six, thirty-eight, thirty-eight, forty lie went on nine forty-two forty-two A radio was squawking from the other side of the door. Joe Harry twisled (he knob; the door of course, was locked. He raised his clenched left list, pounding rapidly. Blurred voices came from the other side. Joe pounded again. The lock clicked. There was the Jerk of the lock, the turn of the knob. The door opened narrowly. Instantly Joe was against It, his weight throwing off balance the man on the other side. They sprawled together through the entry way; a stocky form tumbled over them and slammed the door. Then straightening, Joe Barry stared with dazed eyes at the men about him. Fullhouse had drawn back with a shrug of his shoulders nnd an acquiescing ac-quiescing nod of his narrow head. "All right, Louie," he said. "You win. I'd 've swore it was Greer." He pressed his lips. "But It's him In person I" As for Joe, he could only stand breathlessly, his hand still clutched upon that piece of steel in his coat pocket, his eyes striving to orientate themselves to the unbelievable things he saw; the short-armed Louie Ber-tolinl, Ber-tolinl, coining from his chair across the room, n hoggish-appearing man who stared with magnified eyes through thick-lensed glasses from the bathroom door, a washed-out type of blond woman. Then there was a heavy-shouldered person In chauffeur's chauf-feur's clothes, nnd lastly, a trim, quietly quiet-ly dressed man, light of linir and blue of eyes, who sat at a table with cards scattered upon it, his thin fingers ceaselessly rattling a stack of chips. "Well, Joe," he said at last, "You're back, I see?" There was no sound for a moment, except the blare of the radio, jangling jang-ling every nerve in Joe Barry's body. He tensed his hold on the gun. Desperately Des-perately he took stock of those about him! Fullhouse, the chauffeur, Louie Bertolini alternately pushing his cuffs back from his thick wrists, then Jamming Jam-ming them down again, Big Friday Joe had known he was Big Friday at the first glance the woman, shakily lighting a cigarette. Joe wished that there was no woman in this. As swiftly, swift-ly, he forgot her. "Yes, Mr. Martin, I'm back," he said prosaically. "That ain't no Mr. Martin," Full-house Full-house cut In. "Mis name's Jamison. How's that for a little joke, eh, keed?" (TO BE rONTINlTEP ) |