Memphis World
Memphis World Publishing Co.
1958-09-20
Thaddeus T. Stokes

MEMPHIS WORLD
AMERICAN'S STANDARD RACE JOURNAL
The South's Oldest and Leading Colored Semi-Weekly Newspaper
Published by MEMPHIS WORLD PUBLISHING CO.
Every WEDNESDAY and SATURDAY at 546 BEALE — Ph. JA. 6-4030
Member of SCOTT NEWSPAPER SYNDICATE
W. A. Scott, II, Founder; C. A. Scott General Manager
Entered in the Post Office at Memphis, Tenn., as second-class mail
under the Act of Congress, March 1, 1870
THADDEUS T. STOKES Managing Editor
SMITH FLEMING Circulation Manager
SUBSCRIPTION RATES:
Year $5.00 — 6 Months $3.00 — 3 Months $1.50 (In Advance)
The MEMPHIS WORLD is an independent newspaper — non-sectarian
and non-partisan, printing news unbiasedly and supporting those things
it believes to be of interest to its readers and opposing those things
against the interest of its readers.

Time The Great Arbiter, Works In
The Little Rock Case
After "cooling off" periods, auditions from those who would
be friends of the court, the final recap by the United States
Army, and the close of a few schools, time, the great arbiter,
again might give the affairs at Little Rock a face-saver. Let it be
hoped so at least. Should time intervene with the impact of
local sentiment in favor of submitting to peaceable arbitration
in the school readjustment, the state of Arkansas and the good
people of that commonwealth will be making a valuable contribution 
to the good name and prestige of the nation at large.
Surely they have gained by this time the impending evidence 
that a federal court order not only cannot be successfully
circumvented, and that no where in history will it be disclosed
that a federal fiat has been withdrawn or side tracked to give
right of way to mob action.
If the good people of the state, with the cooperation of a
Christian ministry can consider the error of a way of open
transgression and find a way out of the Little Rock dilemma,
it will be a commendable position of which their children Will
feel proud.
The present situation there provides an opportunity whereby
the people of Arkansas, Virginia and et cetera might see the
errors of their way and correct them with their own initiative
and action.
So, time again emerges, with further grace in the offing.
Let time listen to the immortal sage, Thomas Jefferson,
himself a Virginian and whose dream brought to flower the
University of Virginia, when he wrote President James Madison:
"Above all things, I hope the education of the common
people will be attended to; convinced that on their good senses,
we may rely with the most security for the preservation of a
due degree of liberty."
Time marches on, but she speaks a language unmistakably
wholesome and prophetic.

"The Stride Toward Freedom"
Atlanta born Martin Luther King, Jr., in his new book
"Stride Toward Freedom," adds another star to the constellation
of brilliant authors whose gripping opinions of the day are
molding sentiment on the current issues and doings of the time.
Dr. King, who won his Ph.D. in his early twenties is well
and widely known for his non-violent activities in dealing with
the new order now so distateful on many a horizon.
His book, challenging and gripping in its narration, for
the most is "Mrs. Rosa Parks, too tired to remain standing with
plenty of seats available."
Dr. King is a preacher; proud to be it; his grandfather and
father before him were preachers and hence he comes of a
preaching line. But he is more than a preacher as such; he is a
civic contender and in addition to being a "voice crying in the
wilderness, prepare ye the way of the Lord — and make it
straight" he has risen high in the councils of world statesmanship. 

His book is simple and down to earth in its exposures;
there is not a single discordant note in the whole fabric unless
one would call the right to live; free circulation in a free society
and a more handsome and becoming presentation of the American 
form of government as prescribed by the Constitution of the
United States, discordant.
While this would fall far short of a review, it might be
interesting to state that his new book which tells the "Montgomery 
Story" begins with a first experience in segregation as
a boy in Atlanta. This would take a business turn because it
involves an incident in which his father took him to a store in
Atlanta to buy shoes, and while they were sitting comfortably
waiting their turn, the salesman courteously asked that they
remove to a place provided for colored customers.
His father protested this by going elsewhere to buy shoes.
No doubt this incident clung to the lintels of his self respect
and pride until it finally came to flower in another clime in
which Mrs. Rosa Parks would no longer be a mere seamstress
standing on a bus while there were plenty of seats available.
Dr. King has made a laudable contribution, not only with
his life, but in the volume of his written pages.
The book will be available through the Atlanta Daily World,
210 Auburn Ave., N. E., at the regular retail book store price
of $2.95.

Ike Withholds

date of a special integration election 
10 days Tuesday and indicated
that Little Rock's four high schools
will be reopened immediately afterward, 
no matter How it goes.
If the voters decide in the election 
Sept. 27 that they want integration, 
he will let the schools open
but will not help integrate them.
He said he has a plan to reopen
them if the voters decide segregation 
should continue, but would
not disclose what it is.
"We need to get it over with as

soon as possible and get the kids
back into school," he said.
He said he would not decline an
invitation from President Eisenhower 
to discuss the integration crisis.
There has been no indication that
the President is considering any
such invitation.
Faubus said he thinks Little Rock
Presbyterian leaders who later
Tuesday are expected to consider
asking evangelist Billy Graham to
mediate the dispute have been
"brain - washed by left - wingers,
Communists and integrationists."
He was asked, at a press conference, 
whether, he thinks some of

the clergy are left-wingers and
Communists.
"I certainly do," he said.
Faubus said he moved the date
of the election up for reasons. First,
he wants to get the schools reopened, 
and second, if the election
is held after Oct. 1, new lists of
voters will have to be drawn and
that will take 30 days more.
As to his plan for reopening the
schools, if a majority of the voters
decide upon continued segregation,
he said: "We will have that answered 
before very long."
The Supreme Court decided the
segregation issue on the national
level last Friday when it ordered
Central High and other Little Rock
schools facing integration to let

Negroes in immediately.
Faubus closed the four high
schools in Little Rock—three white,
one Negro— Monday because, he
said, he feared that integration will
provoke violence.
The special election will be held
under a law passed by a special
session of the Legislature three
weeks ago. All voters in the Little
Rock school district who have paid
poll taxes can vote.
The proposition will appear on
the ballot as follows:
"For racial integration of all
schools within the Little Rock
school district —" and "against
racial integration of all schools
within the Little Rock school district—." 


HAS REOPENING PLAN

date of a special integration election 
10 days Tuesday and indicated
that Little Rock's four high schools
will be reopened immediately afterward, 
no matter How it goes.
If the voters decide in the election 
Sept. 27 that they want integration, 
he will let the schools open
but will not help integrate them.
He said he has a plan to reopen
them if the voters decide segregation 
should continue, but would
not disclose what it is.
"We need to get it over with as

soon as possible and get the kids
back into school," he said.
He said he would not decline an
invitation from President Eisenhower 
to discuss the integration crisis.
There has been no indication that
the President is considering any
such invitation.
Faubus said he thinks Little Rock
Presbyterian leaders who later
Tuesday are expected to consider
asking evangelist Billy Graham to
mediate the dispute have been
"brain - washed by left - wingers,
Communists and integrationists."
He was asked, at a press conference, 
whether, he thinks some of

the clergy are left-wingers and
Communists.
"I certainly do," he said.
Faubus said he moved the date
of the election up for reasons. First,
he wants to get the schools reopened, 
and second, if the election
is held after Oct. 1, new lists of
voters will have to be drawn and
that will take 30 days more.
As to his plan for reopening the
schools, if a majority of the voters
decide upon continued segregation,
he said: "We will have that answered 
before very long."
The Supreme Court decided the
segregation issue on the national
level last Friday when it ordered
Central High and other Little Rock
schools facing integration to let

Negroes in immediately.
Faubus closed the four high
schools in Little Rock—three white,
one Negro— Monday because, he
said, he feared that integration will
provoke violence.
The special election will be held
under a law passed by a special
session of the Legislature three
weeks ago. All voters in the Little
Rock school district who have paid
poll taxes can vote.
The proposition will appear on
the ballot as follows:
"For racial integration of all
schools within the Little Rock
school district —" and "against
racial integration of all schools
within the Little Rock school district—." 


WISHING WELL
Registered U. S. Patent Office.
H is a pleasant little game that will give you a message every
day. It is a numerical puzzle designed to spell out your fortune.
Count the letters in your first name. If the number of letters is 6 or
more, subtract 4. If the number is less than 6, add 3. The result is
your key number. Start at the upper left-hand corner of the rectangle 
and check every one of your key numbers, left to right. Then
read the message the letters under the checked figures give you.

THE TIP
OFF
BY EMORY O. JACKSON
Atty. General John Patterson was
swift in reacting to the news that
the Civil Rights Commission has
assigned investigators to check on
allegations of wrongful denial of
voter-registration in three Southern
states, Alabama among them.

Except "one case," that of a white
applicant, the number one Alabama
law enforcement officer claims he
has had no complaints about alleged 
unfair voter-registration rejections. 
This is interesting in light of
the number of organizations claiming 
to be working in the field of
increasing political suffrage.

For about ten years the ASTA
annually has passed a group of resolutions 
at its Spring convention
in the area of voter-registration and
political action. The vole commission 
has made annual reports. In
some instances these ASTA Vote
commission reports have detailed
hardships, unwarranted rejections
and shameful practices in connection 
with alleged unfair political restrictions 
based solely on race. That
none of these reports, resolutions
and case studies reached the office
of the Attorney General is a shocking 
revelation.

The Southern Christian Leadership 
Conference with its superb
leadership announced a dramatic
program of voter-registration action.
The Montgomery Improvement Association 
has made a scientific canvass 
of voter-registration obstacles,
administration and practices. Could
it be that none of its research has
been placed-before Mr. Patterson?

In Jefferson (Birmingham) County, 
there are approximately 127,000
Negro persons 21 years and older.
Yet there are less than 12,000 Negro 
persons on the voters' list. The
number of Negro applicants rejected 
is unavailable. The voterregistration 
leaders in Birmingham
apparently have not kept records.

In another sense, it seems that
Mr. Patterson might be challenging
Negro civic leaders to get on the
ball and let him know forthwith,
boldly and candidly the facts about
voter-registration conditions, racially, 
in Alabama. If that is the
case, it will be interesting to see
how well this responsibility is accepted 
by Negro leadership.


Students To

south. (In New York a mass mobilization 
rally is set for Friday, September 
19.
The March, according to the official 
Call, "will provide a way for
young people to register their desire 
for integration and equality in
the public schools of our nation;
will demonstrate our unity with
the embattled children of the south
who strive heroically to defend democracy 
in education; will enable
white people of goodwill, north and
south, to east, not a piece of paper
merely, but a total vote for democracy; 
will symbolize the fact
that since 1954 more than 300,000
children have entered integrated
schools; will be a moral challenge
to the small minority which is determined 
to use confusion, intimidation 
and terror to defend the old
order."

Integration Stay

find "sufficient grounds for intelfering 
with existing District Court
action at this stage."
When notified of the decision,
Charlottesville Mayor Thomas J.
Michie said, "There is nothing the
council can do now but wait and
see what the governor can do to
get the schools re-opened on a segregated 
basis. This may force
the closing of schools for a matter
of weeks even longer."
Charlottesville City Attorney
John S. Battle, Jr., and Virginia
Attorney General Albertis S. Harrison 
asked Sobeloff Tuesday to
stay the integration order, signed
last Saturday by Federal District
Judge Paul of Harrisonburg, Va.
Paul had refused to stay the order.

Johnson, Bing To

ner will be John H. Johnson of
Chicago, founder and publisher of
the popular magazines, Ebony, Jet,
and Tan; and Rudolph Bing, general 
manager of the Metropolitan
Opera since June 1, 1950.

Arlington To

fers. But he said transfers could
not be denied on psychological
grounds.
Judge Bryan's ruling delayed until 
January a showdown in Arlington 
on Virginia's "massive resistance" 
laws which already have resulted 
in the closing of the Warren
County High School at Front Royal, 
Va., and theaten to close others
in the state.
Joseph H. Freehill, Democratic
candidate for Congress in the district, 
hailed the "breathing spell"
and voiced hope that state officials
would "use it to good advantage."
Freehill, seeking the House seat
bf Rep. Joseph T. Broyhill (R., Va.),
said "I hope we will avoid the chaos
we are beginning to see in other
parts of the state because of closed
schools."
Arlington schools had been operating 
on a segregated basis pending 
the judge's ruling. They will
continue to do so except that Stratford 
Junior High must admit the
four Negroes in January.
The Front Royal school was under 
federal court order to integrate,
but Virginia Gov. J. Lindsay Almond 
closed it Monday under the
massive resistance laws.
Two schools at Charlottesville,
Va., have been ordered to integrate
Monday. But the school board has
ordered them closed. Chief Judge
Simon E. Sobeloff of the Fourth
U. S. Circuit Court of Appeals is
considering a school board request
to stay the integration order.
At Norfolk, Va., Federal Judge
Walter E. Hoffman has before him
a motion aimed at admitting 17
Negroes to white schools. The motion 
would overthrow a state injunction 
barring the school board
from assigning the Negroes to allwhite 
institutions. Hoffman has indicated 
he will grant the motion.
If he does, the state is expected
to close three white high schools
and three white junior high schools
involved.
In the case of the 26 Negroes denied 
admittance to white Arlington
schools, the school board has cited
low academic accomplishments,
adaptability, residence outside the
specific school area, overcrowding at
the white school, and psychological
problems.
In rejecting psychological factors
as a valid reason, Judge Bryan said
this ground was based on the students' 
race. The judge also said
the school board has a right to set
up standards for transfers so long
as they were not based on race or
color.
As for the four students he ordered 
admitted in January, the
judge said rejection of the applications 
was not justified by the evidence. 
The school board had said
they would fail to adapt in white
schools.
All four of the Negro students
have applied for the seventh grade
at Stratford Junior High. They are
Donald Deskins, Michael G. Jones,
Lance D. Newman and Gloria D.
Thompson, all 12.
Judge Bryan ruled that school
attendance areas, academic accomplishment 
and overcrowding at Arlington's 
Washington and Lee High

School "clearly are valid criteria
free of taint of race or color" for
refusing to admit seven of the Negroes 
there. Likewise, he said, the
test of adaptability was a valid
ground for rejection.

GOVERNOR DEFIES COURT

fers. But he said transfers could
not be denied on psychological
grounds.
Judge Bryan's ruling delayed until 
January a showdown in Arlington 
on Virginia's "massive resistance" 
laws which already have resulted 
in the closing of the Warren
County High School at Front Royal, 
Va., and theaten to close others
in the state.
Joseph H. Freehill, Democratic
candidate for Congress in the district, 
hailed the "breathing spell"
and voiced hope that state officials
would "use it to good advantage."
Freehill, seeking the House seat
bf Rep. Joseph T. Broyhill (R., Va.),
said "I hope we will avoid the chaos
we are beginning to see in other
parts of the state because of closed
schools."
Arlington schools had been operating 
on a segregated basis pending 
the judge's ruling. They will
continue to do so except that Stratford 
Junior High must admit the
four Negroes in January.
The Front Royal school was under 
federal court order to integrate,
but Virginia Gov. J. Lindsay Almond 
closed it Monday under the
massive resistance laws.
Two schools at Charlottesville,
Va., have been ordered to integrate
Monday. But the school board has
ordered them closed. Chief Judge
Simon E. Sobeloff of the Fourth
U. S. Circuit Court of Appeals is
considering a school board request
to stay the integration order.
At Norfolk, Va., Federal Judge
Walter E. Hoffman has before him
a motion aimed at admitting 17
Negroes to white schools. The motion 
would overthrow a state injunction 
barring the school board
from assigning the Negroes to allwhite 
institutions. Hoffman has indicated 
he will grant the motion.
If he does, the state is expected
to close three white high schools
and three white junior high schools
involved.
In the case of the 26 Negroes denied 
admittance to white Arlington
schools, the school board has cited
low academic accomplishments,
adaptability, residence outside the
specific school area, overcrowding at
the white school, and psychological
problems.
In rejecting psychological factors
as a valid reason, Judge Bryan said
this ground was based on the students' 
race. The judge also said
the school board has a right to set
up standards for transfers so long
as they were not based on race or
color.
As for the four students he ordered 
admitted in January, the
judge said rejection of the applications 
was not justified by the evidence. 
The school board had said
they would fail to adapt in white
schools.
All four of the Negro students
have applied for the seventh grade
at Stratford Junior High. They are
Donald Deskins, Michael G. Jones,
Lance D. Newman and Gloria D.
Thompson, all 12.
Judge Bryan ruled that school
attendance areas, academic accomplishment 
and overcrowding at Arlington's 
Washington and Lee High

School "clearly are valid criteria
free of taint of race or color" for
refusing to admit seven of the Negroes 
there. Likewise, he said, the
test of adaptability was a valid
ground for rejection.

SAYS REASON NOT VALID

fers. But he said transfers could
not be denied on psychological
grounds.
Judge Bryan's ruling delayed until 
January a showdown in Arlington 
on Virginia's "massive resistance" 
laws which already have resulted 
in the closing of the Warren
County High School at Front Royal, 
Va., and theaten to close others
in the state.
Joseph H. Freehill, Democratic
candidate for Congress in the district, 
hailed the "breathing spell"
and voiced hope that state officials
would "use it to good advantage."
Freehill, seeking the House seat
bf Rep. Joseph T. Broyhill (R., Va.),
said "I hope we will avoid the chaos
we are beginning to see in other
parts of the state because of closed
schools."
Arlington schools had been operating 
on a segregated basis pending 
the judge's ruling. They will
continue to do so except that Stratford 
Junior High must admit the
four Negroes in January.
The Front Royal school was under 
federal court order to integrate,
but Virginia Gov. J. Lindsay Almond 
closed it Monday under the
massive resistance laws.
Two schools at Charlottesville,
Va., have been ordered to integrate
Monday. But the school board has
ordered them closed. Chief Judge
Simon E. Sobeloff of the Fourth
U. S. Circuit Court of Appeals is
considering a school board request
to stay the integration order.
At Norfolk, Va., Federal Judge
Walter E. Hoffman has before him
a motion aimed at admitting 17
Negroes to white schools. The motion 
would overthrow a state injunction 
barring the school board
from assigning the Negroes to allwhite 
institutions. Hoffman has indicated 
he will grant the motion.
If he does, the state is expected
to close three white high schools
and three white junior high schools
involved.
In the case of the 26 Negroes denied 
admittance to white Arlington
schools, the school board has cited
low academic accomplishments,
adaptability, residence outside the
specific school area, overcrowding at
the white school, and psychological
problems.
In rejecting psychological factors
as a valid reason, Judge Bryan said
this ground was based on the students' 
race. The judge also said
the school board has a right to set
up standards for transfers so long
as they were not based on race or
color.
As for the four students he ordered 
admitted in January, the
judge said rejection of the applications 
was not justified by the evidence. 
The school board had said
they would fail to adapt in white
schools.
All four of the Negro students
have applied for the seventh grade
at Stratford Junior High. They are
Donald Deskins, Michael G. Jones,
Lance D. Newman and Gloria D.
Thompson, all 12.
Judge Bryan ruled that school
attendance areas, academic accomplishment 
and overcrowding at Arlington's 
Washington and Lee High

School "clearly are valid criteria
free of taint of race or color" for
refusing to admit seven of the Negroes 
there. Likewise, he said, the
test of adaptability was a valid
ground for rejection.

MEALTIME MELODIES!
First thing in the morning is
when miniutes matter most! Too
often, breakfast is foregone in favor
if a few more
minutes in bed.
Then a fast dash
and the breakfast 
skippers are
ff to school or
o work.
With a little
planning in advance 
breakfast
an be a quick
and easy meal.
We need it for

our very health's sake and personal
well being during the morning
hours.
Here is a breakfast that is easy
to fix when you organize your
thoughts and actions. Follow the
menu and simple step for this basic
breakfast and prove it to yourself.
Half grapefruit Raisin toast
Cocoa.
Set the table (May be done the
night before)
Heat or scald milk for cereal
Heat chocolate milk for cocoa
Section grapefruit and top with
a cherry
Cook oatmeal as directed
Place bread in toaster
Dish up oatmeal and pour cocoa
Breakfast is ready.
2 cups oats
quick or old fashioned)
1 teaspoon salt
4 cups milk
Cherry Preserves
Stir oats into scalded milk. Add
oats or longer according to direcsalt 
and cook one minute for quicktions. 
Stir occasionally. Cover pan;
remove from heat and let stand
a few minutes. Top each serving
with a spoonful of cherry preserves.
Makes 04 to 6 serving.

PLANNING BREAKFAST MAGIC
First thing in the morning is
when miniutes matter most! Too
often, breakfast is foregone in favor
if a few more
minutes in bed.
Then a fast dash
and the breakfast 
skippers are
ff to school or
o work.
With a little
planning in advance 
breakfast
an be a quick
and easy meal.
We need it for

our very health's sake and personal
well being during the morning
hours.
Here is a breakfast that is easy
to fix when you organize your
thoughts and actions. Follow the
menu and simple step for this basic
breakfast and prove it to yourself.
Half grapefruit Raisin toast
Cocoa.
Set the table (May be done the
night before)
Heat or scald milk for cereal
Heat chocolate milk for cocoa
Section grapefruit and top with
a cherry
Cook oatmeal as directed
Place bread in toaster
Dish up oatmeal and pour cocoa
Breakfast is ready.
2 cups oats
quick or old fashioned)
1 teaspoon salt
4 cups milk
Cherry Preserves
Stir oats into scalded milk. Add
oats or longer according to direcsalt 
and cook one minute for quicktions. 
Stir occasionally. Cover pan;
remove from heat and let stand
a few minutes. Top each serving
with a spoonful of cherry preserves.
Makes 04 to 6 serving.

OATMEAL WITH
CHERRY PRESERVES
First thing in the morning is
when miniutes matter most! Too
often, breakfast is foregone in favor
if a few more
minutes in bed.
Then a fast dash
and the breakfast 
skippers are
ff to school or
o work.
With a little
planning in advance 
breakfast
an be a quick
and easy meal.
We need it for

our very health's sake and personal
well being during the morning
hours.
Here is a breakfast that is easy
to fix when you organize your
thoughts and actions. Follow the
menu and simple step for this basic
breakfast and prove it to yourself.
Half grapefruit Raisin toast
Cocoa.
Set the table (May be done the
night before)
Heat or scald milk for cereal
Heat chocolate milk for cocoa
Section grapefruit and top with
a cherry
Cook oatmeal as directed
Place bread in toaster
Dish up oatmeal and pour cocoa
Breakfast is ready.
2 cups oats
quick or old fashioned)
1 teaspoon salt
4 cups milk
Cherry Preserves
Stir oats into scalded milk. Add
oats or longer according to direcsalt 
and cook one minute for quicktions. 
Stir occasionally. Cover pan;
remove from heat and let stand
a few minutes. Top each serving
with a spoonful of cherry preserves.
Makes 04 to 6 serving.

OATMEAL WITH
CHERRY PRESERVES:
First thing in the morning is
when miniutes matter most! Too
often, breakfast is foregone in favor
if a few more
minutes in bed.
Then a fast dash
and the breakfast 
skippers are
ff to school or
o work.
With a little
planning in advance 
breakfast
an be a quick
and easy meal.
We need it for

our very health's sake and personal
well being during the morning
hours.
Here is a breakfast that is easy
to fix when you organize your
thoughts and actions. Follow the
menu and simple step for this basic
breakfast and prove it to yourself.
Half grapefruit Raisin toast
Cocoa.
Set the table (May be done the
night before)
Heat or scald milk for cereal
Heat chocolate milk for cocoa
Section grapefruit and top with
a cherry
Cook oatmeal as directed
Place bread in toaster
Dish up oatmeal and pour cocoa
Breakfast is ready.
2 cups oats
quick or old fashioned)
1 teaspoon salt
4 cups milk
Cherry Preserves
Stir oats into scalded milk. Add
oats or longer according to direcsalt 
and cook one minute for quicktions. 
Stir occasionally. Cover pan;
remove from heat and let stand
a few minutes. Top each serving
with a spoonful of cherry preserves.
Makes 04 to 6 serving.

MAIN SPEAKER—
When the
Union Protective Assurance Company 
celebrates its 25 anniversary
on Sunday, Sept 21, at the Avery
Chapel AME Church, the main
speaker will be, Dr. Roy Love, pastor 
of the Mt. Nebo Baptist church.
Service will start at 3:30 p. m.
In celebrating its silver anniversary 
at the Avery Chapel AME
church, employees and officers of
the company will be returning to
the scence where plans were made
for its founding in 1933.
The founders of the company were
H. D. Whalum, Dr. W. O. Speigh,
Lewis B. Twiggs, O. T. Wesbrook,
S. W. Quails, Sr., N. H. Owens, T.
H. Hayes, Sr., and T. H. Hayes,
Jr.

Police Killing
In St. Mary's
Is 'Justified'
Camden
County coroner's jury ruled Monday 
that a police officer was justified 
in shooting a 22-year-old Negro 
man who allegedly "struggled"
with the officer following his arrest. 

The victim was Ernest Hunter of
St. Marys.
Camden County Sheriff Willie
Smith said the officer, Billy Carter, 
23, claimed he was writing a
ticket citing Hunter's wife for driving 
through a stop sign when Hunter 
allegedly approached and began 
arguing.
The officer claimed Hunter interfered 
to the extent that he
radioed Chief E. F. Geiger for assistance. 

Carter a former police officer at
Savannah, said he managed to get
Hunter into his car alone and was
jailing him for interfering with an
officer when the man allegedly
jumped him.

MEMPHIS WORLD



REPAIR SERVICE



REMODEL-REPAIR—PAINT



ADD-A-ROOM



SALESWOMEN WANTED



BUSINESS WOMEN — SELL


NEWSBOYS WANTED


FEMALE HELP WANTED


Little Rock Is Big

state and Federal government in
modern times.
The calmness of the adults belied 
the restlessness of the high
school students who were the victims". 

A taxi cab driver said that he
was doing a booming business between 
the air port and down town
"Most of my fares have been
newspaper men. They are really
pouring in here," said the cabby.
Most of the newspaper men trying 
to "set-it-out".... waiting for
the next move. Mast camera film
remained unused and most stories
remained to be written.
Many of the town's leading citizens, 
still bemoaning the fact that
"it happened in Little Rock," expressed 
the opinion that "parents
of the students will eventual demand 
that the school be opened."
However, this reporter has no
knowledge of any concerted effort
by parents of the students to seek
the opening of the school in protest 
to Gov. Faubus close-orders.
Mrs. Daisy Bates of the NAACP,
like the other players in the statefederal 
government drama, was
waiting for the next move. She
said "the U. S. Supreme Court has
spoken for the second time. It is
still saying segregation in public
schools is illegal."
Teachers at Central and Horace
Mann high schools went to their

class rooms with lessons to teach,
but no students to teach which
surely must be a dismal situation
for a teacher.
In the meantime Faubus is
broadening his horizon of attack.
The latest to receive a full blast
was the Presbyterian church, which
is requesting an apology.
Little Rock is a big rock in the
structure of rate relations in the
South.

Miami
Manhunt
Published by special arrangement with Curtis Brown, Ltd.
© 1958, King Features Syndicate, Inc. All rights reserved.
LEFT my home and my-true
love, the more than slightly
sea-weary  in good hands
at the Indian Creek Marine Ways.
She'd been in warm Caribbean
waters for five months. The day
before I'd gone over the side with
a diving mask. I'd found her bottom 
foul with barnacles and
grass. She'd been taking on more
water than usual and I'd found
suspicious gaps in the seams between 
her keel and both garboard
strakes. Tomorrow they'd aul
her. In the next two weeks they'd
scrape her broad and matronly
bottom. They would caulk her
seams, apply several coats of
paint to all exposed areas and in
general prepare her to at least
hold her own among ladies of her
advanced age and extremely modest 
income bracket.
Me? I'm Brad Dolan. I hailed
the first cab I saw and loaded
my battered suitcase and my
slightly less battered self into it.
"Where to, Mac?" the cabbie
said.
"The Beach," I said.
He wormed his way into the
line of traffic. "Any place particular?" 

"I've got two weeks to spend
and no reservation. Got an idea?"
He twisted his wattled neck
and spoke from the side of his
mouth. "Been to Miami Beach
before?"
"Not recently."
"I guess maybe you know
that's one place, everything depends 
on what you got to spend.
You want a gold-plated telephone
in your room, you want a lobby
big enough to play football in,
we got plenty places like that.
You want a king-sized swimming
pool that don't hardly anybody
ever go into, they just lay around
the edges getting tan and playing
gin rummy, that's easy, too.
These places I'm talking about,
they'll cost you like a C-note a
day. And that don't include no
chow."
"For my money a lobby's just
a place to walk through when
you're going somewhere. I don't
play gin rummy and I've never
been able to discover any special
demand for a man with a good
tan."
He stopped for a red light. He
rubbed at the wattles on his turkey 
neck and said, "You're a man
speaks my language. I never seen
the absolute necessity of a man
going back to New York with his
nose peeling and his back itching.
And I never seen no gold-plated
telephone could get a call through
any faster. This bill-a-day stuff,
that's all uptown. Uptown, mink.
Downtown, let-out muskrat. I
can and you a place downtown,
it'll cost you maybe eight bucks
a day. You share kitchen privileges 
in the basement with the
other tenants. You got to rough
it, though. You got to swim in
the Atlantic ocean."
"How about a happy medium?"
The light changed. We jerked
forward. "Sure, We got plenty of
them, too."
"I'm easy to please, pal," I said.
"Find me one of those."
The cabbie swerved around an
olive-green Jaguar. A gorgeous
number with a shock of bleachedblonde 
hair was at the wheel. I
looked at her and sighed noisily.
Ana with feeling.
We were crossing the MacArthur 
Causeway. In a couple of
minutes we turned south on Collins. 
The late afternoon sun was
warm and the sidewalks teemed
with women of all sizes and
shapes. A mile or so down the
avenue the cabbie swerved into a
semicircular driveway and ground
to a stop opposite the Stratford
Arms, an imposing fifteen or
twenty story oceanside pile of
steel and glass. In any other
town in the country this edifice
would have been a show-place.
Here, in comparison with some
of the other piles we'd passed in
the last dozen or so blocks, it
looked almost unpretentious.
" year's hotel, Mac," the
cabbie said. "They'll more than
likely tell you right off the bat
they got no room for you. But
try and leave without registering, 
they'll throw you down before 
you can get to the nearest
exit." He grinned.
I paid him, thanked him, surrendered 
my bag to a bellhop and
went across the lobby to the desk.
The clerk on duty had eyes like
a wounded doe. He looked at my
rumpled slacks, sports shirt and
jacket, at my scuffed suitcase and
then at me.
"You have a reservation, sir?"
he asked.
A logical enough question, and
the cabbie had warned me. But
the words were inflected and delivered 
in a manner pre-planned
to make the poor sucker without
a reservation feel like a hired
man who's busted into the parlor
during a meeting of the Ladies'
Aid Society.
I was in too much of a vacation
mood, however, to let the guy
shake me up. I'd mothered my
loose change for a long while for
a short-time fling in Miami, and
I wasn't going to let some squirt
with a master's degree in snobbery 
get me off on the wrong
foot.
I tried to look and sound apologetic. 
It wasn't easy. "I.. I'm
sorry. I don't have a reservation."
He licked his lips in anticipation. 
Several people were waiting
behind me and beside me. He
had an audience.
The little man cast his eyes
ceilingward. ", sir! You
can't just walk in here at the
height of the season and expect
to get a room without—"
Quick steps sounded beside me.
My right arm was caught in a
firm clasp. I turned. The girl,
standing beside me, holding my
arm, was tall—not many inches
shorter than I, and I'm six-three.
A shock of dark, glistening, almost 
black hair fell to bare, golden-tanned 
shoulders, A proud
youthful figure was outlined in
the right places of the off-theshoulder 
print dress that she
wore. Her slanted eyes, set far
apart, were a smoky gray. Her

too-full lips had a sulky, downward 
pull at the corners. She
was a big girl, vital hipped, broadshouldered. 
She was, I guessed,
about twenty-four, maybe twentysix. 
And she was a dish.
And I'd never seen her before.
Her voice had a husky, intimate 
quality that started small
vibrations chasing one another
up and down my backbone:
"You're real late, doll. Where've
you been?"
A more stable citizen would
have given this kid a rapid brushoff. 
I was to wish, many times in
the days to come, that I had done
exactly that. As it happened, I
made the mistake of looking too
closely at those slanty, smokygray 
eyes; the full red lips. The
 and I had been at sea for
almost three weeks. Three weeks
at sea can do strange things to
a man's perspective. My knees
went weak. I grinned, a little foolishly. 

"Late," I said. "That's the capsuled 
story of my life, baby."
She looked past me, into the
main part of the lobby. When she
looked back at me her eyes were
troubled. Tiny worry lines showed
through her make-up at the corners 
of her mouth. "Well, don't
bother to explain now, honey."
She smiled. The worry lines disappeared. 
Her voice now was a
trifle too loud—almost as if she
were speaking for someone else's
benefit, rather than mine. "You're
here! That's all that matters.
Have you got your room number?" 

Instinctively, I said, "Wait a
minute. I—"
Now there was tension in her
voice. "Have you, doll?" Her hand
tightened on my arm. I looked
at her. I could have been wrong,
but her eyes seemed to plead with
me.
I didn't know exactly what the
gimmick was, but my curiosity
was aroused. Maybe this would
turn out to be an honest case of
mistaken identity, but that
seemed hardly possible. The
warmth of her voice, the endearments 
she'd used, were meant to
spell old friends, I'd just fumble
along, take my cues, and see what
happened.
I finally got around to answering 
her question about the room.
"Not yet. Buster here has been
distinctly discouraging."
She raised her voice again as
she spoke to the little man behind 
the desk. " you
can find a room for my fiance,
Mr. Cockrell." She smiled at him,
then added sweetly, "If you can't,
I'm sure Mr. Novack can."
All the joyful anticipation went
from the little man's face. "Well,
Miss Blanding, I suppose we can
make some sort of an arrangement 
for your fiance. It won't be
necessary to bother Mr. Novack,
though."
"You're a sweetheart, Mr. Cockrell!" 
She loosened her grip on
my arm long enough for me to
sign the register, but she didn't
leave my side....


A NEW SUSPENSE NOVEL By WILLIAM FULLER
Published by special arrangement with Curtis Brown, Ltd.
© 1958, King Features Syndicate, Inc. All rights reserved.
LEFT my home and my-true
love, the more than slightly
sea-weary  in good hands
at the Indian Creek Marine Ways.
She'd been in warm Caribbean
waters for five months. The day
before I'd gone over the side with
a diving mask. I'd found her bottom 
foul with barnacles and
grass. She'd been taking on more
water than usual and I'd found
suspicious gaps in the seams between 
her keel and both garboard
strakes. Tomorrow they'd aul
her. In the next two weeks they'd
scrape her broad and matronly
bottom. They would caulk her
seams, apply several coats of
paint to all exposed areas and in
general prepare her to at least
hold her own among ladies of her
advanced age and extremely modest 
income bracket.
Me? I'm Brad Dolan. I hailed
the first cab I saw and loaded
my battered suitcase and my
slightly less battered self into it.
"Where to, Mac?" the cabbie
said.
"The Beach," I said.
He wormed his way into the
line of traffic. "Any place particular?" 

"I've got two weeks to spend
and no reservation. Got an idea?"
He twisted his wattled neck
and spoke from the side of his
mouth. "Been to Miami Beach
before?"
"Not recently."
"I guess maybe you know
that's one place, everything depends 
on what you got to spend.
You want a gold-plated telephone
in your room, you want a lobby
big enough to play football in,
we got plenty places like that.
You want a king-sized swimming
pool that don't hardly anybody
ever go into, they just lay around
the edges getting tan and playing
gin rummy, that's easy, too.
These places I'm talking about,
they'll cost you like a C-note a
day. And that don't include no
chow."
"For my money a lobby's just
a place to walk through when
you're going somewhere. I don't
play gin rummy and I've never
been able to discover any special
demand for a man with a good
tan."
He stopped for a red light. He
rubbed at the wattles on his turkey 
neck and said, "You're a man
speaks my language. I never seen
the absolute necessity of a man
going back to New York with his
nose peeling and his back itching.
And I never seen no gold-plated
telephone could get a call through
any faster. This bill-a-day stuff,
that's all uptown. Uptown, mink.
Downtown, let-out muskrat. I
can and you a place downtown,
it'll cost you maybe eight bucks
a day. You share kitchen privileges 
in the basement with the
other tenants. You got to rough
it, though. You got to swim in
the Atlantic ocean."
"How about a happy medium?"
The light changed. We jerked
forward. "Sure, We got plenty of
them, too."
"I'm easy to please, pal," I said.
"Find me one of those."
The cabbie swerved around an
olive-green Jaguar. A gorgeous
number with a shock of bleachedblonde 
hair was at the wheel. I
looked at her and sighed noisily.
Ana with feeling.
We were crossing the MacArthur 
Causeway. In a couple of
minutes we turned south on Collins. 
The late afternoon sun was
warm and the sidewalks teemed
with women of all sizes and
shapes. A mile or so down the
avenue the cabbie swerved into a
semicircular driveway and ground
to a stop opposite the Stratford
Arms, an imposing fifteen or
twenty story oceanside pile of
steel and glass. In any other
town in the country this edifice
would have been a show-place.
Here, in comparison with some
of the other piles we'd passed in
the last dozen or so blocks, it
looked almost unpretentious.
" year's hotel, Mac," the
cabbie said. "They'll more than
likely tell you right off the bat
they got no room for you. But
try and leave without registering, 
they'll throw you down before 
you can get to the nearest
exit." He grinned.
I paid him, thanked him, surrendered 
my bag to a bellhop and
went across the lobby to the desk.
The clerk on duty had eyes like
a wounded doe. He looked at my
rumpled slacks, sports shirt and
jacket, at my scuffed suitcase and
then at me.
"You have a reservation, sir?"
he asked.
A logical enough question, and
the cabbie had warned me. But
the words were inflected and delivered 
in a manner pre-planned
to make the poor sucker without
a reservation feel like a hired
man who's busted into the parlor
during a meeting of the Ladies'
Aid Society.
I was in too much of a vacation
mood, however, to let the guy
shake me up. I'd mothered my
loose change for a long while for
a short-time fling in Miami, and
I wasn't going to let some squirt
with a master's degree in snobbery 
get me off on the wrong
foot.
I tried to look and sound apologetic. 
It wasn't easy. "I.. I'm
sorry. I don't have a reservation."
He licked his lips in anticipation. 
Several people were waiting
behind me and beside me. He
had an audience.
The little man cast his eyes
ceilingward. ", sir! You
can't just walk in here at the
height of the season and expect
to get a room without—"
Quick steps sounded beside me.
My right arm was caught in a
firm clasp. I turned. The girl,
standing beside me, holding my
arm, was tall—not many inches
shorter than I, and I'm six-three.
A shock of dark, glistening, almost 
black hair fell to bare, golden-tanned 
shoulders, A proud
youthful figure was outlined in
the right places of the off-theshoulder 
print dress that she
wore. Her slanted eyes, set far
apart, were a smoky gray. Her

too-full lips had a sulky, downward 
pull at the corners. She
was a big girl, vital hipped, broadshouldered. 
She was, I guessed,
about twenty-four, maybe twentysix. 
And she was a dish.
And I'd never seen her before.
Her voice had a husky, intimate 
quality that started small
vibrations chasing one another
up and down my backbone:
"You're real late, doll. Where've
you been?"
A more stable citizen would
have given this kid a rapid brushoff. 
I was to wish, many times in
the days to come, that I had done
exactly that. As it happened, I
made the mistake of looking too
closely at those slanty, smokygray 
eyes; the full red lips. The
 and I had been at sea for
almost three weeks. Three weeks
at sea can do strange things to
a man's perspective. My knees
went weak. I grinned, a little foolishly. 

"Late," I said. "That's the capsuled 
story of my life, baby."
She looked past me, into the
main part of the lobby. When she
looked back at me her eyes were
troubled. Tiny worry lines showed
through her make-up at the corners 
of her mouth. "Well, don't
bother to explain now, honey."
She smiled. The worry lines disappeared. 
Her voice now was a
trifle too loud—almost as if she
were speaking for someone else's
benefit, rather than mine. "You're
here! That's all that matters.
Have you got your room number?" 

Instinctively, I said, "Wait a
minute. I—"
Now there was tension in her
voice. "Have you, doll?" Her hand
tightened on my arm. I looked
at her. I could have been wrong,
but her eyes seemed to plead with
me.
I didn't know exactly what the
gimmick was, but my curiosity
was aroused. Maybe this would
turn out to be an honest case of
mistaken identity, but that
seemed hardly possible. The
warmth of her voice, the endearments 
she'd used, were meant to
spell old friends, I'd just fumble
along, take my cues, and see what
happened.
I finally got around to answering 
her question about the room.
"Not yet. Buster here has been
distinctly discouraging."
She raised her voice again as
she spoke to the little man behind 
the desk. " you
can find a room for my fiance,
Mr. Cockrell." She smiled at him,
then added sweetly, "If you can't,
I'm sure Mr. Novack can."
All the joyful anticipation went
from the little man's face. "Well,
Miss Blanding, I suppose we can
make some sort of an arrangement 
for your fiance. It won't be
necessary to bother Mr. Novack,
though."
"You're a sweetheart, Mr. Cockrell!" 
She loosened her grip on
my arm long enough for me to
sign the register, but she didn't
leave my side....


CHAPTER 1
Published by special arrangement with Curtis Brown, Ltd.
© 1958, King Features Syndicate, Inc. All rights reserved.
LEFT my home and my-true
love, the more than slightly
sea-weary  in good hands
at the Indian Creek Marine Ways.
She'd been in warm Caribbean
waters for five months. The day
before I'd gone over the side with
a diving mask. I'd found her bottom 
foul with barnacles and
grass. She'd been taking on more
water than usual and I'd found
suspicious gaps in the seams between 
her keel and both garboard
strakes. Tomorrow they'd aul
her. In the next two weeks they'd
scrape her broad and matronly
bottom. They would caulk her
seams, apply several coats of
paint to all exposed areas and in
general prepare her to at least
hold her own among ladies of her
advanced age and extremely modest 
income bracket.
Me? I'm Brad Dolan. I hailed
the first cab I saw and loaded
my battered suitcase and my
slightly less battered self into it.
"Where to, Mac?" the cabbie
said.
"The Beach," I said.
He wormed his way into the
line of traffic. "Any place particular?" 

"I've got two weeks to spend
and no reservation. Got an idea?"
He twisted his wattled neck
and spoke from the side of his
mouth. "Been to Miami Beach
before?"
"Not recently."
"I guess maybe you know
that's one place, everything depends 
on what you got to spend.
You want a gold-plated telephone
in your room, you want a lobby
big enough to play football in,
we got plenty places like that.
You want a king-sized swimming
pool that don't hardly anybody
ever go into, they just lay around
the edges getting tan and playing
gin rummy, that's easy, too.
These places I'm talking about,
they'll cost you like a C-note a
day. And that don't include no
chow."
"For my money a lobby's just
a place to walk through when
you're going somewhere. I don't
play gin rummy and I've never
been able to discover any special
demand for a man with a good
tan."
He stopped for a red light. He
rubbed at the wattles on his turkey 
neck and said, "You're a man
speaks my language. I never seen
the absolute necessity of a man
going back to New York with his
nose peeling and his back itching.
And I never seen no gold-plated
telephone could get a call through
any faster. This bill-a-day stuff,
that's all uptown. Uptown, mink.
Downtown, let-out muskrat. I
can and you a place downtown,
it'll cost you maybe eight bucks
a day. You share kitchen privileges 
in the basement with the
other tenants. You got to rough
it, though. You got to swim in
the Atlantic ocean."
"How about a happy medium?"
The light changed. We jerked
forward. "Sure, We got plenty of
them, too."
"I'm easy to please, pal," I said.
"Find me one of those."
The cabbie swerved around an
olive-green Jaguar. A gorgeous
number with a shock of bleachedblonde 
hair was at the wheel. I
looked at her and sighed noisily.
Ana with feeling.
We were crossing the MacArthur 
Causeway. In a couple of
minutes we turned south on Collins. 
The late afternoon sun was
warm and the sidewalks teemed
with women of all sizes and
shapes. A mile or so down the
avenue the cabbie swerved into a
semicircular driveway and ground
to a stop opposite the Stratford
Arms, an imposing fifteen or
twenty story oceanside pile of
steel and glass. In any other
town in the country this edifice
would have been a show-place.
Here, in comparison with some
of the other piles we'd passed in
the last dozen or so blocks, it
looked almost unpretentious.
" year's hotel, Mac," the
cabbie said. "They'll more than
likely tell you right off the bat
they got no room for you. But
try and leave without registering, 
they'll throw you down before 
you can get to the nearest
exit." He grinned.
I paid him, thanked him, surrendered 
my bag to a bellhop and
went across the lobby to the desk.
The clerk on duty had eyes like
a wounded doe. He looked at my
rumpled slacks, sports shirt and
jacket, at my scuffed suitcase and
then at me.
"You have a reservation, sir?"
he asked.
A logical enough question, and
the cabbie had warned me. But
the words were inflected and delivered 
in a manner pre-planned
to make the poor sucker without
a reservation feel like a hired
man who's busted into the parlor
during a meeting of the Ladies'
Aid Society.
I was in too much of a vacation
mood, however, to let the guy
shake me up. I'd mothered my
loose change for a long while for
a short-time fling in Miami, and
I wasn't going to let some squirt
with a master's degree in snobbery 
get me off on the wrong
foot.
I tried to look and sound apologetic. 
It wasn't easy. "I.. I'm
sorry. I don't have a reservation."
He licked his lips in anticipation. 
Several people were waiting
behind me and beside me. He
had an audience.
The little man cast his eyes
ceilingward. ", sir! You
can't just walk in here at the
height of the season and expect
to get a room without—"
Quick steps sounded beside me.
My right arm was caught in a
firm clasp. I turned. The girl,
standing beside me, holding my
arm, was tall—not many inches
shorter than I, and I'm six-three.
A shock of dark, glistening, almost 
black hair fell to bare, golden-tanned 
shoulders, A proud
youthful figure was outlined in
the right places of the off-theshoulder 
print dress that she
wore. Her slanted eyes, set far
apart, were a smoky gray. Her

too-full lips had a sulky, downward 
pull at the corners. She
was a big girl, vital hipped, broadshouldered. 
She was, I guessed,
about twenty-four, maybe twentysix. 
And she was a dish.
And I'd never seen her before.
Her voice had a husky, intimate 
quality that started small
vibrations chasing one another
up and down my backbone:
"You're real late, doll. Where've
you been?"
A more stable citizen would
have given this kid a rapid brushoff. 
I was to wish, many times in
the days to come, that I had done
exactly that. As it happened, I
made the mistake of looking too
closely at those slanty, smokygray 
eyes; the full red lips. The
 and I had been at sea for
almost three weeks. Three weeks
at sea can do strange things to
a man's perspective. My knees
went weak. I grinned, a little foolishly. 

"Late," I said. "That's the capsuled 
story of my life, baby."
She looked past me, into the
main part of the lobby. When she
looked back at me her eyes were
troubled. Tiny worry lines showed
through her make-up at the corners 
of her mouth. "Well, don't
bother to explain now, honey."
She smiled. The worry lines disappeared. 
Her voice now was a
trifle too loud—almost as if she
were speaking for someone else's
benefit, rather than mine. "You're
here! That's all that matters.
Have you got your room number?" 

Instinctively, I said, "Wait a
minute. I—"
Now there was tension in her
voice. "Have you, doll?" Her hand
tightened on my arm. I looked
at her. I could have been wrong,
but her eyes seemed to plead with
me.
I didn't know exactly what the
gimmick was, but my curiosity
was aroused. Maybe this would
turn out to be an honest case of
mistaken identity, but that
seemed hardly possible. The
warmth of her voice, the endearments 
she'd used, were meant to
spell old friends, I'd just fumble
along, take my cues, and see what
happened.
I finally got around to answering 
her question about the room.
"Not yet. Buster here has been
distinctly discouraging."
She raised her voice again as
she spoke to the little man behind 
the desk. " you
can find a room for my fiance,
Mr. Cockrell." She smiled at him,
then added sweetly, "If you can't,
I'm sure Mr. Novack can."
All the joyful anticipation went
from the little man's face. "Well,
Miss Blanding, I suppose we can
make some sort of an arrangement 
for your fiance. It won't be
necessary to bother Mr. Novack,
though."
"You're a sweetheart, Mr. Cockrell!" 
She loosened her grip on
my arm long enough for me to
sign the register, but she didn't
leave my side....


IN INTEGRATION SPOTLIGHT —
Gov. Orval E. Faubus (top, left)
of Arkansas issued a proclamation closing all four high schools
in Little Rock. He acted after the U. S. Supreme Court had refused 
to permit a delay in integration in Central High School.
At top, right, students leave the Warren County High School,
Front Royal, Va., after its doors were closed indefinitely by
the School Board to keep Negroes out. At bottom, integrated
Negro students occupy front seats in a class at Louisiana University 
in New Orleans. The U. S. Appeals Court supported
breaking of the 99-year undergraduate color pattern in LSU.

'Merit Award Program'

than $12,000 in premium money
available for exhibits in livestock,

agriculture, homemaking, and educational 
exhibits, Prof. Blair T.
Hunt, veteran principal of Booker
T. Washington High School, has
been associated with the fair since
its founding in 1913. He is presently 
serving as president of the organization 
and is making every effort 
to make this a banner showing 
for 1958.

WEEKLY RATE UP
The Treasury Tuesday announced the
weekly rate on a $1,880,000,000
issue of short term bills was 2.605 
per cent, the biggest since
last January 7.
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