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Show I 'Cite- r - : r : FSCTlOtsI I I STILL COJJ'T LIKE IT, Fn&HiHE ;! : I tJ ii By COLIN DELL I,., I ' ! I Cot HOC ill Frankie had big ideas but when he struck what he thought was real pay dirt, Louie rebelled, albeit meekly. Everything went smoothly enough, but that, as far as Louie was concerned, was what was wrong it was too smooth. at least she'll know it's his handwriting." hand-writing." j Ke pul it in a plain envelope, addressed it, and attached a spe- cial delivery stamp. "Take it ovei on the south side and mail it," he told Louie. "And be careful you'ra not picked- up on the way." A near-sleepless night left the kidnappers in werse spirits than ever. They snapped at each other like dogs "Get out of here and get yourself some breakfast," Frankie ordered gruffly. "And don't be all day about it. I'm hungry too." Louie Ferensic yanked his hat down low on his forehead and stalked out without a word. Frankie stared after him, his face a twisted mask of hatred. He laughed deep in his throat. "Still don't like it. eh?" he muttered mut-tered half to himself. "I'll give you something you'll like even less after we collect that hundred G's, waving a newspaper. " She talked," he growled, tossing the paper to Louie. "Get a load of those headlines." "RETIRED INDUSTRIALIST IN-DUSTRIALIST BELIEVED KIDNAPPED," KID-NAPPED," Louie read. And in smaller print: C. M. Carter, blind millionaire, disappears during daily stroll in Jackson Park. It was a two-column spread, complete com-plete with diagrams and indignant editorials. Louie Ferensic dropped the paper pa-per in disgust. "Wha'd I tell you?" he demanded accusingly. "Now what are we going to do?" "Do? Why, the same thing we started out to do, you idiot!" Frankie snapped. He walked to a ' pRANKIE LIBOLD switched off the ignition and the green sedan glided to the curb and stopped, only a few feet from the winding footpath in Jackson Park. ' flow's that for timing, Louie?" he asked in a suave, cocky voice that matched his personality. "I told you the old boy's as regular In his habits as a night watchman.' I ain't been clockin' him all week tor nothin'." Louie Ferensic eased a .38 automatic auto-matic from his shoulder holster and dropped it into his right-hand coat pocket. He looked like an undertaker un-dertaker and talked like he looked. "I still don't like it, Frankie." he aaid slowly. "I still don't like it." Frankie's hard black eyes gleamed contempt. He snorted derisively, de-risively, then turned his attention to the figure advancing along the graveled footpath. He was an old man, but his bearing was upright and dignified. His progress was leisurely and the reason was evident. It was a white cane he carried in his right hand. The tap-tap-tap of the metal-tipped metal-tipped walking stick rang clear in the afternoon air as the old man felt his way along the brick-bordered brick-bordered path. He was within ten feet of the car when Frankie . Li-bold Li-bold and Louie Ferensic closed In, one on either side. "AH right, gran'pop, just take It easy and do as you're told and you won't get hurt," Frankie Li-bold Li-bold said. He prodded the old fellow fel-low with a blunt-nosed revolver. "Just keep on walkin' and act natural." The blind man faltered for an Instant and a shadow flicked across his face. Not fear, perhaps, but something akin to it. Then Louie Ferensic grasped his arm and urged him forward and into the car. T -,-.v.. ;.;---.---.-p..---r ; ,s - j i ' f , . . - i f- t, i Frankie Libold studied it carefully. "It's all full of holes from them nails," he announced finally. and it won't be half the money, either." He paced to and fro between the window and the door for a few minutes, then sat down at the table and began playing solitaire. He was arranging the cards for a second game when he heard footsteps foot-steps in the hall outside. The door swung inward and Louie Ferensic stood framed in the opening. open-ing. Then suddenly he came hurtling hur-tling into the room, catapulted by the foot of a man standing directly direct-ly behind him "Don't shoot, Frankie!" Louie screamed as he fell. But he might just as well have saved his breath. Frankie Libold was covered by half a dozen guns before he had time to move. Several of the plain clothes men frisked Frankie and relieved him of his gun and the handcuff key. Another, obviously in charge, crossed the room to the bed and released the blind man. ' The old fellow was smiling in a pleased manner. "I see you got my message in time, officer," he said, seeking his rescuer with sightless eyes. "We did, Mr. Carter, and I think that was a pretty clever idea, too punching it in braille on the ransom ran-som note. All we had to do was locate a bowling alley on an in- He remained silent during the forty-five minute drive to the west side, seemingly stunned by the unexpected. un-expected. He allowed himself to be led to the second-floor hide-out without causing a disturbance. He sat quietly while Frankie Libold adjusted the handcuffs that shackled him to a low iron cot. The two gunmen moved to a window overlooking the street and talked in low tones, "you and your hunches," said Frankie. He sneered at his morose associate. "It came off without a hitch, just like I said It would. And if this caper don't oring us a hundred grand my name in't Frankie Libold." "Maybe so," said Louie, "but I etill don't like it." He shot a glance t the old man where he sat disconsolate dis-consolate on the bed. "I only hope his old ! lady keeps her head and leaves the G-men out of it." The pair talked on in husky monotones mon-otones while they kept an eye on he cars crossing the busy inter-eection inter-eection below. The bells of a Calh-plip Calh-plip church tolled the Angelus. Sounds began filtering up from the bowling alley on the first floor the sharp click as the ball hit the polished surface of the alley, the echoing crash of the pins. The acrid ac-rid exudations of a varnish factory tainted the air. Frankie Libold stretched lazily and suppressed a yawn. "I'm going go-ing out and get a paper," he told Louie. "Soon as I come back we'll get down to business." He was back again in less than fifteen minutes, and he came in table and picked up a plain sheet of typewriter paper. "Get him something to write on," he told Louie. "We'll get this ransom note done now and put it in the mail. She'll pay off or else.'.' Louie pulled an empty drawer from a dresser and laid it upside down on the bed. Frankie started to lay the paper on it, then drew back. "Can't you get anything better? bet-ter? This thing's got nails coming up through the bottom." His smoldering eyes raked across his unresponsive partner. "Skip it," he growled. "Just skip it." v He slapped the paper down on the rough surface and thrust a fountain pen into the blind man's hand. "Here." He took the hand and guided it to the paper. ''Feel around on this so you can' tell what you're doin',. then write exactly ex-actly what I tell you to write. And watch those nails, you're punching a hole in the paper." The sensitive fingers of the retired re-tired industrialist explored the makeshift desk, then the pen in his hand came to rest at the proper point. Frankie began dictating dic-tating slowly, for the blind man seemed to have trouble finding a smooth surface to write on. He kept shifting and rearranging the paper, this way and that, but finally final-ly the note was completed. Frankie Libold studied it carefully. careful-ly. "It's all full of holes from them nails," he announced finally, "but tersection, with a Catholic church and a varnish factory in the same neighborhood, and that wasn't hard at all." Louie Ferensic glared at his gaping partner. "You see?" he said spitefully. "I told you I didn't like it." |