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cannot be successfully circumvented, and that no where in history will it be disclosed that a federal fiat has been withdrawn or side tracked to give right of way to mob action.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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