Memphis World Memphis World Publishing Co. 1956-12-26 Raymond F. Tisby MEMPHIS WORLD The south's oldest and Leading Colored Semi-Weekly News paper Published by MEMPHIS WORLD PUBLISHING CO. Every WEDNESDAY and SATURDAY at 164 BEALE—Phone JA 6-4030 Entered in the post office at Memphis, Tenn., as second-class mail under the Act of congress, March 1, 1870 Member of SCOTT NEWSPAPER SYNDICATE W. A. Scott, II, Founder; C. A. Scott, General Manager Raymond F. Tisby Managing Editor Mrs. Rosa Brown Bracy Public Relations and Advertising William C. Weathers Circulation promotion The MEMPHIS WORLD is an independent newspaper-non sectarian and non-partisan, printing news unblasedly and supporting those things it believes to the interest of its readers and opposing those things against the interest of its readers. 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. Gloria In Excelsis The eve of o great day of triumph and jubilation is upon Us; the voices of the Saints surround, and there is being relived in the traditional legend of "Peace on Earth and Goodwill to men." That exhortation stemming from the apex of the world's grasp for those fine human relations which suggest world brotherhood, should surely find implementation in the efforts of mankind to make of this a better world in which to live. The warm milk of human kindness so far — searching and wholesome in its inquiry into human thirst, flowing from the breast of the New Testament, affords that rich nutrition for the growth of the spirit of fellowship and love. We have come a long way up the road of a universal brotherhood; the country and the world at large have occasioned upon those problems arising from the malnutrition of our systems and finding no visible excuse for such a situation in which we find ourselves, are turning to the doctrine of redress in an effort to recapture that genuine spirit extolled in the sermon on the Mount. It is befitting that we come upon the Christmas stage, set with its garlands and song, suggesting on every hand that love of one's fellows, yea that love which surpasses understanding. In one generation twice we have seen the blood-red flower of war reach its poisonous flames into the elements of human suffering and disaster. We have heard the groaning of the dying and those who languor and hunger for food — and yea — after righteousness. We have seen in the aftermath the refusal of man to learn a lesson from the terrible rigors infesting the realm of human occupation; we have seen those wicked resorts unkindly and unseemly, leveled by brother against brother, and in open defiance of the laws of the land which seek to inquire into and redress the inhuman wounds inflicted upon those held responsible for their creeds, their color and even their previous condition of servitude! This day, incidently, the birthday of our Lord, appeals in all its candor of an abiding faith and regimented charity, to a cold cruel world. May this Christmas unfold in its boundless, blessings that hope which lifteth in its climb the lowly broken spirits of those who have felt the deep wounds of transgression and privation and "have not bowed to Baal," nor turned to the weakness of the flesh. A new occasion for the revival of one's strength and courage for the ordeals bound to make their advents across the path of human activity. Such is meet — for there is nothing like an opportunity to burn the records of a baffling past in order that a new beginning and a new philosophy might have o new inning! Ours is an enviable opportunity; "ye are the salt of the earth" and the light not to be placed under a bushel but proclaimed from the housetop, that such might be a "lamp unto their feet and a light unto their pathway" who struggle along this thorny maze of unrest, racial disturbances and economic privation. Fervently we do pray and hopefully we do long for the coming upon this earth that peace prayed in Gethsemane and vouched for on Calvary. Everywhere - Goodwill to Men: "Glory be to God in the highest." Montgomery Gets A Christmas Gift It is certain there is genuine rejoicing this day, in that the citizens of Montgomery, Alabama get a handsome Christmas package. The court hands down a final decree declaring to the city authorities, the Public Service Commission and all other commissions clinging on to the buggy-shafting of "separate but equal" philosophy, that segregation on city buses is unconstitutional and, therefore, illegal. Not only so is this true with the Negro citizens, but all those who felt that the strange phenomena of a year's boycott battle had to be the medium by which man's humanity to man was to be realized. But, old orders for the most never give up without a struggle; power is sweet and men seldom sell or compromise power. But here, the power to discriminate meant the power to destroy, and such, once broken, frees not only the Negro but this white man who has been precisioned and conditioned into the doctrine of racism, a scheme designed to limit the freedom of both races. From the very beginning to the final decree of the court, and the resolve of the citizens to use the buses, there was never a display or resort to violence by the Negro citizens. This is commendable conduct. A new chapter in this brand of battle comes upon the horizon for mankind; righteousness sometimes feels that such a procedure is ample weapon for combat in many of the wars infesting the world. Be it said to the everlasting credit to Dr. M. L. King, Jr., and those around him, that honor was richly conferred upon the cause of those who struggle all over the world for human justice and equality in the eyes of the law. Surely, there is left on the rich pages of human advancement a brilliant chapter in achievement. It will be thought and implemented on down time when the clash of causes and the brunt of brushes come upon the scene of human endeavor for a sane and sensible settlement. In the light of the Supreme Court's action in refusing to reconsider the Montgomery case and the action already taken by U. S. Attorney General Herbert Brownell, let us hope that the question of bus segregation has not only been settled for Montgomery, but the issue is resolved for ail concerned everywhere in the nation. Miss McDaniel Brings Honor To Nation (From The Atlanta Daily World) Miss Mildred McDaniel, a product of David T. Howard High School and currently a student at Tuskegee Institute, richly deserve the international acclaim that has been showered upon her for her magnificent triumph at the 16th Olympaid. The peerless United States high jump star not only won the Olympic gold medal with a record smashing high jump of 5 feet 91/2 inches but she became a symbol of courage against tremendous odds. This native born Georgian, who studied in Atlanta's public schools, was on a U. S. women's track and field team that was not conceded, a chance to win a single first place. She had watched the heratbreak and pathos of her teammates as they surrendered to overwhelming advantages held by Russia and Australia in the women's games. Her's was fierce pride and titanic determination. Her superlative triumph in international competition merits a joyful outcry from millions who have read of her achievement. Miss McDaniel shows the spirit of her people. She grew up in the Southland. She has watched the grim patterns of race relations which chained their progress but not their competitive spirit. She refused to bow to the mandates of second class citizenship and bridled competition. She first flashed championship form in the Tuskegee Relays. Then in the Pan American Games in Mexico she came into her own, topping all previous records with a high jump of 5 feet 61/2 inches. She bettered that mark in a qualifying jump for the American team scaling 5 feet 9 inches. Miss McDaniel is a senior in physical education and was coached by Tuskegee's Nell Jackson who competed in the 200 meter dash in the 1948 Olympics in London. She joins such illustrious Georgia Olympic Gold Medal winners as Forrest (Specs) Towns, Alice Coachman and Paul Anderson. Georgians are proud of Miss McDaniel and her achievement in sports and as an ambassador of global goodwill. It in with matchless pride that we note that Miss McDaniel was among the six athletes who broke world records in their specialties. U. S. athletes participated in 24 men's event, 12 women events and left unbroken only six Olympic standards. The U. S. captured 32 gold medals, 25 silvers and 17 bronzes. This rich harvest of world track and field acclaim has been borne by one of Georgia's own. REVIEWING THE NEWS BY WILLIAM GORDON Managing Editor Atlanta Daily World A small man on crutches moved across to the dinner table. He was warmly greeted by those assembled. Many of the people present were heads of industrial firms, some of them very famous nationally. But this small man, with the broad smile and warm handshake, spoke easily to them, and from all indications, he knew his business very well. Crippled almost from the day of his birth, this man had considered this to be no handicap. The fact is, he had used what some would refer to a handicap as an advantage. Like the young minister advised a few days ago, this man had taken some of the hidden resources given him by the Creator and put them to work. He had refused to stand by complaining about a slight physical defect. Instead, he had gone into the public relations field, put his own personality to work and made friends with many of the giants of industry over the nation Today, this man is among the top public relations people of the nation. And such stories are numerous — stories about people who refuse to submit to what is referred to as a handicap. The fact is, God has given man many talents. Some of us utilize these talents; others refuse to do so. Instead, we stand about, complaining about conditions and problems created out of our own imagination. The great men of the world were those who threw off the disguised shackles of handicaps and mastered whatever came before them. When we think of the great changes in our social order, and about the benefits we enjoy today as a result of the New Deal, we think of the late Franklin D. Roosevelt. But even behind Mr. Roosevelt was a little lame man by the name of Howe who helped to shape the strategy for the Roosevelt campaign, which ultimately led to the White House. There was Roosevelt himself, a victim of Infantile Paralysis. We can point to all of the great world figures and come up with some type of handicap which plagued them during their lifetime. Churchill had a speech impediment, Paul, the man who later sold Christianity to the world was an epileptic. The story of the trip to Damascus is a vivid account of a man whose heart and mind were poisoned with bitterness and hate. It took a spell of blindness and suffering to bring him around to reality. We all know the story of Helen Keller; Joe Louis who was born in remote and humble circumstances, and many others whose lives have been filled with misgivings and disappointments. There have been the blind, the lame, the disease-ridden souls whose life's patterns have been nothing short of tragic. There is the Negro, who by no reason of his own has long been the Victim of the artificial color barrier. Pigmentation has and still is a stigma which haunts him. But even this is no handicap in the sense that some may view it. The man who told the Negro, "You have to run twice as fast to get half as far," had a valuable point. A handicap, it seems, remains to be one, so far as we permit it to be. We have only to look at the achievements of others to get the true story. Those Who Rise Above Handicaps BY WILLIAM GORDON Managing Editor Atlanta Daily World A small man on crutches moved across to the dinner table. He was warmly greeted by those assembled. Many of the people present were heads of industrial firms, some of them very famous nationally. But this small man, with the broad smile and warm handshake, spoke easily to them, and from all indications, he knew his business very well. Crippled almost from the day of his birth, this man had considered this to be no handicap. The fact is, he had used what some would refer to a handicap as an advantage. Like the young minister advised a few days ago, this man had taken some of the hidden resources given him by the Creator and put them to work. He had refused to stand by complaining about a slight physical defect. Instead, he had gone into the public relations field, put his own personality to work and made friends with many of the giants of industry over the nation Today, this man is among the top public relations people of the nation. And such stories are numerous — stories about people who refuse to submit to what is referred to as a handicap. The fact is, God has given man many talents. Some of us utilize these talents; others refuse to do so. Instead, we stand about, complaining about conditions and problems created out of our own imagination. The great men of the world were those who threw off the disguised shackles of handicaps and mastered whatever came before them. When we think of the great changes in our social order, and about the benefits we enjoy today as a result of the New Deal, we think of the late Franklin D. Roosevelt. But even behind Mr. Roosevelt was a little lame man by the name of Howe who helped to shape the strategy for the Roosevelt campaign, which ultimately led to the White House. There was Roosevelt himself, a victim of Infantile Paralysis. We can point to all of the great world figures and come up with some type of handicap which plagued them during their lifetime. Churchill had a speech impediment, Paul, the man who later sold Christianity to the world was an epileptic. The story of the trip to Damascus is a vivid account of a man whose heart and mind were poisoned with bitterness and hate. It took a spell of blindness and suffering to bring him around to reality. We all know the story of Helen Keller; Joe Louis who was born in remote and humble circumstances, and many others whose lives have been filled with misgivings and disappointments. There have been the blind, the lame, the disease-ridden souls whose life's patterns have been nothing short of tragic. There is the Negro, who by no reason of his own has long been the Victim of the artificial color barrier. Pigmentation has and still is a stigma which haunts him. But even this is no handicap in the sense that some may view it. The man who told the Negro, "You have to run twice as fast to get half as far," had a valuable point. A handicap, it seems, remains to be one, so far as we permit it to be. We have only to look at the achievements of others to get the true story. Time For Moral Courage Legal segregation on public carriers is now dead law. This should be recognized. Legal law is catching up with moral law. That, too, should be recognized. National law in the United States of America applies to all of the states alike. That should be recognized by all of those who subscribe to law and order and who understand the American process. This brings us down to a suggestion made by the Alabama Christian Movement for Human Rights. It has addressed letters both to City Hall and the Birmingham Transit Company asking that both recognize the new law. Both should have expected no less, we think. It is asking too much to suggest that any group which has been so long deprived of the full enjoyment of constitutional guarantees waive or wait out their newly-won opportunity to occupy any vacant seat on the Birmingham intra-city buses. No leader of the group who counsels a wait-and-waive philosophy can expect any following in this city. Hence all persons of goodwill and understanding should face the reality of the situation. Therefore, we urge City Hall to face the reality of the situation with moral courage and a passion for obedience to the highest law of the land. We know not what course they will take but for us there is but one honorable position to take. Recognize the fact that the old law is dead and move immediately into the new reality. This is a time for moral courage. Chancellor Galdwell Of The University Of Georgia Takes A Position (From The Atlanta Daily World) Those who felt that some clarification should obtain in the Horace Ward case for admission to the University of Georgia Law School have it fully now in a forthright statement made by Dr. Harmon W. Caldwell, the Chancellor of the University System who stated clearly his position in the matter to the extent he would admit Negro students if they were eligible. There we have it from the top executive; he is the chief administrator — and not the Board of Regents, a policy making body, it is not the Board of Regents' place to have the last word on the question of a student's eligibility. It is felt from here that this is the logical and proper position to be taken. The question of the admission of Negroes to professional schools was settled back in 1938 in the Gaines case and since that time the structure of racial discrimination has been on jitters. Now that the top administrative officer has had his say and that in line with the spirit of the Supreme Court, it is apparent from here that there need be any further call for clarification. The position is plain; the top executive has spoken and there is left no logical ground upon which lesser lights could stand. A great moment is at hand. It took the University many years to gain the proud statue it possesses. Among the things which cannot be outlived, none rises to more importance than that of consistency. Surely the high prestige at stake and the principles involved could not afford to risk for the record the statement that Horace Ward's color did militate against him in what is plainly an unprecedented situation involving the admission of students to the University of Georgia. Those who have repeatedly stated that their desire was to preserve segregation between the races, are now met face to face in a situation where one of two positions must be taken one of these being integrity, the other is left for anybody's guess! by KELLEY ROOS Casson Duker a well-to-do amateur detective, is intrigued when Henry Lockyer, a stolid banker, tells him he had been blackmailed by an ordinary looking little man named Bagot who threatened to ruin his reputation. Bagot promises not to bother him again. One thing distinguishes the insignificant Bagot: He paused to admire a piece of Roman scuipture in Lockyer's house. Casson thinks this interest may trap him. Casson goes to his friend. George Strutt, a police superintendent, for help. Strutt becomes interested in the case. Later, Casson meets another friend, and asks him to cheek his sales records of Roman sculpture for possible leads. Meanwhile. Strutt has dug up a similar case from the police files–the Greenhaugh case, in which the blackmailer called himself Martin. On a visit to Willington's. Casson sees a man answering Bagot's description buy two bronze statuettes. He follows him to his home in Bickersteth Street, and rents a room across the street. He discovers that the suspect frequents the Shepley Arms a local tavern. The bartender tells Casson that the man's name is John Perry. CASSON had just sat down to write his story of the Bagot case from the night of his meeting with the drunk Lockyer up to his own first pint in the when the door of No. 51 reopened and Perry emerged. Casson, taken by surprise, dived for the camera but he was too late. Casson stood there, looking at his wristwatch, giving Perry a minute and a quarter to get most of the way down the street. Then he slipped downstairs and followed. To Casson, the pattern had altered drastically. Never had he heard of Bagot or Martin being clothed in anything but the same nondescript brown suit that Perry habitually wore. Now he was in a black City coat and striped trousers. He carried a neatly rolled umbrella and wore a bowler hat. He looked like a clerk on his way to the office in Moorgate. But why at half-past eleven in the morning? Casson followed him to Ravenscourt Park Station and, choosing the carriage behind him, boarded an eastbound train. Perry might be going to his lawyer's, or to some respectable office from which he had retired and to which he returned two days a week in order to keep himself busy. Indeed, the only things against him, the only two threads which linked him to the shadowy Bagot and the still more remote Martin of Hatfield, were his personal appearance and his purchase of antiques. They changed trains at South Kensington and Perry took the eastbound Circle train. Casson followed him. They got out at the Mansion House. Perry walked up Threadneedle Street Opposite the National Provincial Bank he consulted his watch. Then he went on. Suddenly he turned into a door on his left and was lost. Casson did not quicken his pace. He marked the doorway and kept his eye on it while he covered the fifty yards to Perry's bolthole. He walked past it, glancing inside. The place was about half full. He walked on, stopped, turned back, and turned into the bar— Perry had his back to the doorway, and Casson went to the counter on his right. Above the shelves on the wall was a mirror. It was tilted forward, and in it Casson could see Perry across the room. Perry was chewing a sandwich, a glass of beer on the counter before him. He was talking to a young man who was eating vealand-ham pie. The young man also wore a black and striped City suiting. Casson ordered a chicken sandwich and a glass of white wine. While he ate he watched. The bar was filling up and the air was becoming pearly from cigarette smoke. Casson felt safe from detection, especially since there was no mirror over the counter above Perry in which he could have had a reverse view of Casson watching him. The young man was tall, well built, And had fair hair. He had a pleasant, humourless face and seemed to be no companion for a blackmailer. But, from his experiences in Bath, Casson distrusted appearances. During his investigation of the "Witch" one of the nicest old women in the village had displayed a startling aptitude for cruelty. After half-an-hour the young man looked at his watch, finished his Guinness, and he and Perry left the bar. They walked down Threadneedle Street to the Bank, shook hands, and parted, Perry turning towards the Underground station and the young man continuing westwards. Without hesitation Casson followed the young man. He wished to trace every tentacle of Perry's outdoor life. In Poultry the young man turned into a large building. As Casson strolled past he saw that it was And Lockyer was a director of Gamman's. The coincidences mounted-into the region of Inevitability. Casson's excitement grew. He gave the young man ten minutes, during which time he could have washed his hands and returned to his post in the Bank. Then he went in, walked up the long hall, and asked a question about currency exchange. While he was waiting for the reply he looked along the counter. As the far end, obviously in the junior position, was the fair hair and pleasant face. Casson waited. The answer came back: 996 francs to the pound sterling, 1,680 lire. Casson thanked the teller and strolled out, glancing as he went at the silverand-black name-plate before the young man's place. Mr. Macfarlane, it stated. The fair head never looked at him as he passed through the tall swing-doors. From a call-box Casson telephoned Strutt. The fat Superintendent sounded irritable. "Have you got him?" he said. "Oh, no," Casson replied. "I'm just amusing myself." "Well, I'm not," snapped back the voice. "And I will tell you why. Kent is playing Middlesex tomorrow afternoon and I was going to watch. Now I'm not. And I'm not because some blasted burglar called Soap-fingers or Twinkle-toes or some idiot name has pinched a mink coat from some idiot actress and I've got to find him. See?" "In this weather," Casson observed, "a burglar in a fur coat will look obvious. You should find it easy to catch him. Do you know anything about a Mr John Perry of 51, Bickerstfth Street, W.6?" Strutt's voice altered. "Is that Bagot?" "I don't think so," Casson replied evenly. "But it may be a clue." "Clue!" snorted the Superintendent. "Clue! You sound like the gutter Press. Why don't you find me a decent fingerprint and then bring me the finger that made it? All right, I'll ring you back." "I'd rather you sent a note to my flat," said Casson. He had no desire to let Strutt know where he was spending his days. If Strutt knew that, he would horn in on the game too soon. "All right. All right What about two tickets for the first Test Match?" "Certainly not," said Casaon, who could get them easily "You should be spending your time guarding honest citizens." He rang off. SYNOPSIS by KELLEY ROOS Casson Duker a well-to-do amateur detective, is intrigued when Henry Lockyer, a stolid banker, tells him he had been blackmailed by an ordinary looking little man named Bagot who threatened to ruin his reputation. Bagot promises not to bother him again. One thing distinguishes the insignificant Bagot: He paused to admire a piece of Roman scuipture in Lockyer's house. Casson thinks this interest may trap him. Casson goes to his friend. George Strutt, a police superintendent, for help. Strutt becomes interested in the case. Later, Casson meets another friend, and asks him to cheek his sales records of Roman sculpture for possible leads. Meanwhile. Strutt has dug up a similar case from the police files–the Greenhaugh case, in which the blackmailer called himself Martin. On a visit to Willington's. Casson sees a man answering Bagot's description buy two bronze statuettes. He follows him to his home in Bickersteth Street, and rents a room across the street. He discovers that the suspect frequents the Shepley Arms a local tavern. The bartender tells Casson that the man's name is John Perry. CASSON had just sat down to write his story of the Bagot case from the night of his meeting with the drunk Lockyer up to his own first pint in the when the door of No. 51 reopened and Perry emerged. Casson, taken by surprise, dived for the camera but he was too late. Casson stood there, looking at his wristwatch, giving Perry a minute and a quarter to get most of the way down the street. Then he slipped downstairs and followed. To Casson, the pattern had altered drastically. Never had he heard of Bagot or Martin being clothed in anything but the same nondescript brown suit that Perry habitually wore. Now he was in a black City coat and striped trousers. He carried a neatly rolled umbrella and wore a bowler hat. He looked like a clerk on his way to the office in Moorgate. But why at half-past eleven in the morning? Casson followed him to Ravenscourt Park Station and, choosing the carriage behind him, boarded an eastbound train. Perry might be going to his lawyer's, or to some respectable office from which he had retired and to which he returned two days a week in order to keep himself busy. Indeed, the only things against him, the only two threads which linked him to the shadowy Bagot and the still more remote Martin of Hatfield, were his personal appearance and his purchase of antiques. They changed trains at South Kensington and Perry took the eastbound Circle train. Casson followed him. They got out at the Mansion House. Perry walked up Threadneedle Street Opposite the National Provincial Bank he consulted his watch. Then he went on. Suddenly he turned into a door on his left and was lost. Casson did not quicken his pace. He marked the doorway and kept his eye on it while he covered the fifty yards to Perry's bolthole. He walked past it, glancing inside. The place was about half full. He walked on, stopped, turned back, and turned into the bar— Perry had his back to the doorway, and Casson went to the counter on his right. Above the shelves on the wall was a mirror. It was tilted forward, and in it Casson could see Perry across the room. Perry was chewing a sandwich, a glass of beer on the counter before him. He was talking to a young man who was eating vealand-ham pie. The young man also wore a black and striped City suiting. Casson ordered a chicken sandwich and a glass of white wine. While he ate he watched. The bar was filling up and the air was becoming pearly from cigarette smoke. Casson felt safe from detection, especially since there was no mirror over the counter above Perry in which he could have had a reverse view of Casson watching him. The young man was tall, well built, And had fair hair. He had a pleasant, humourless face and seemed to be no companion for a blackmailer. But, from his experiences in Bath, Casson distrusted appearances. During his investigation of the "Witch" one of the nicest old women in the village had displayed a startling aptitude for cruelty. After half-an-hour the young man looked at his watch, finished his Guinness, and he and Perry left the bar. They walked down Threadneedle Street to the Bank, shook hands, and parted, Perry turning towards the Underground station and the young man continuing westwards. Without hesitation Casson followed the young man. He wished to trace every tentacle of Perry's outdoor life. In Poultry the young man turned into a large building. As Casson strolled past he saw that it was And Lockyer was a director of Gamman's. The coincidences mounted-into the region of Inevitability. Casson's excitement grew. He gave the young man ten minutes, during which time he could have washed his hands and returned to his post in the Bank. Then he went in, walked up the long hall, and asked a question about currency exchange. While he was waiting for the reply he looked along the counter. As the far end, obviously in the junior position, was the fair hair and pleasant face. Casson waited. The answer came back: 996 francs to the pound sterling, 1,680 lire. Casson thanked the teller and strolled out, glancing as he went at the silverand-black name-plate before the young man's place. Mr. Macfarlane, it stated. The fair head never looked at him as he passed through the tall swing-doors. From a call-box Casson telephoned Strutt. The fat Superintendent sounded irritable. "Have you got him?" he said. "Oh, no," Casson replied. "I'm just amusing myself." "Well, I'm not," snapped back the voice. "And I will tell you why. Kent is playing Middlesex tomorrow afternoon and I was going to watch. Now I'm not. And I'm not because some blasted burglar called Soap-fingers or Twinkle-toes or some idiot name has pinched a mink coat from some idiot actress and I've got to find him. See?" "In this weather," Casson observed, "a burglar in a fur coat will look obvious. You should find it easy to catch him. Do you know anything about a Mr John Perry of 51, Bickerstfth Street, W.6?" Strutt's voice altered. "Is that Bagot?" "I don't think so," Casson replied evenly. "But it may be a clue." "Clue!" snorted the Superintendent. "Clue! You sound like the gutter Press. Why don't you find me a decent fingerprint and then bring me the finger that made it? All right, I'll ring you back." "I'd rather you sent a note to my flat," said Casson. He had no desire to let Strutt know where he was spending his days. If Strutt knew that, he would horn in on the game too soon. "All right. All right What about two tickets for the first Test Match?" "Certainly not," said Casaon, who could get them easily "You should be spending your time guarding honest citizens." He rang off. CHAPTER 10 by KELLEY ROOS Casson Duker a well-to-do amateur detective, is intrigued when Henry Lockyer, a stolid banker, tells him he had been blackmailed by an ordinary looking little man named Bagot who threatened to ruin his reputation. Bagot promises not to bother him again. One thing distinguishes the insignificant Bagot: He paused to admire a piece of Roman scuipture in Lockyer's house. Casson thinks this interest may trap him. Casson goes to his friend. George Strutt, a police superintendent, for help. Strutt becomes interested in the case. Later, Casson meets another friend, and asks him to cheek his sales records of Roman sculpture for possible leads. Meanwhile. Strutt has dug up a similar case from the police files–the Greenhaugh case, in which the blackmailer called himself Martin. On a visit to Willington's. Casson sees a man answering Bagot's description buy two bronze statuettes. He follows him to his home in Bickersteth Street, and rents a room across the street. He discovers that the suspect frequents the Shepley Arms a local tavern. The bartender tells Casson that the man's name is John Perry. CASSON had just sat down to write his story of the Bagot case from the night of his meeting with the drunk Lockyer up to his own first pint in the when the door of No. 51 reopened and Perry emerged. Casson, taken by surprise, dived for the camera but he was too late. Casson stood there, looking at his wristwatch, giving Perry a minute and a quarter to get most of the way down the street. Then he slipped downstairs and followed. To Casson, the pattern had altered drastically. Never had he heard of Bagot or Martin being clothed in anything but the same nondescript brown suit that Perry habitually wore. Now he was in a black City coat and striped trousers. He carried a neatly rolled umbrella and wore a bowler hat. He looked like a clerk on his way to the office in Moorgate. But why at half-past eleven in the morning? Casson followed him to Ravenscourt Park Station and, choosing the carriage behind him, boarded an eastbound train. Perry might be going to his lawyer's, or to some respectable office from which he had retired and to which he returned two days a week in order to keep himself busy. Indeed, the only things against him, the only two threads which linked him to the shadowy Bagot and the still more remote Martin of Hatfield, were his personal appearance and his purchase of antiques. They changed trains at South Kensington and Perry took the eastbound Circle train. Casson followed him. They got out at the Mansion House. Perry walked up Threadneedle Street Opposite the National Provincial Bank he consulted his watch. Then he went on. Suddenly he turned into a door on his left and was lost. Casson did not quicken his pace. He marked the doorway and kept his eye on it while he covered the fifty yards to Perry's bolthole. He walked past it, glancing inside. The place was about half full. He walked on, stopped, turned back, and turned into the bar— Perry had his back to the doorway, and Casson went to the counter on his right. Above the shelves on the wall was a mirror. It was tilted forward, and in it Casson could see Perry across the room. Perry was chewing a sandwich, a glass of beer on the counter before him. He was talking to a young man who was eating vealand-ham pie. The young man also wore a black and striped City suiting. Casson ordered a chicken sandwich and a glass of white wine. While he ate he watched. The bar was filling up and the air was becoming pearly from cigarette smoke. Casson felt safe from detection, especially since there was no mirror over the counter above Perry in which he could have had a reverse view of Casson watching him. The young man was tall, well built, And had fair hair. He had a pleasant, humourless face and seemed to be no companion for a blackmailer. But, from his experiences in Bath, Casson distrusted appearances. During his investigation of the "Witch" one of the nicest old women in the village had displayed a startling aptitude for cruelty. After half-an-hour the young man looked at his watch, finished his Guinness, and he and Perry left the bar. They walked down Threadneedle Street to the Bank, shook hands, and parted, Perry turning towards the Underground station and the young man continuing westwards. Without hesitation Casson followed the young man. He wished to trace every tentacle of Perry's outdoor life. In Poultry the young man turned into a large building. As Casson strolled past he saw that it was And Lockyer was a director of Gamman's. The coincidences mounted-into the region of Inevitability. Casson's excitement grew. He gave the young man ten minutes, during which time he could have washed his hands and returned to his post in the Bank. Then he went in, walked up the long hall, and asked a question about currency exchange. While he was waiting for the reply he looked along the counter. As the far end, obviously in the junior position, was the fair hair and pleasant face. Casson waited. The answer came back: 996 francs to the pound sterling, 1,680 lire. Casson thanked the teller and strolled out, glancing as he went at the silverand-black name-plate before the young man's place. Mr. Macfarlane, it stated. The fair head never looked at him as he passed through the tall swing-doors. From a call-box Casson telephoned Strutt. The fat Superintendent sounded irritable. "Have you got him?" he said. "Oh, no," Casson replied. "I'm just amusing myself." "Well, I'm not," snapped back the voice. "And I will tell you why. Kent is playing Middlesex tomorrow afternoon and I was going to watch. Now I'm not. And I'm not because some blasted burglar called Soap-fingers or Twinkle-toes or some idiot name has pinched a mink coat from some idiot actress and I've got to find him. See?" "In this weather," Casson observed, "a burglar in a fur coat will look obvious. You should find it easy to catch him. Do you know anything about a Mr John Perry of 51, Bickerstfth Street, W.6?" Strutt's voice altered. "Is that Bagot?" "I don't think so," Casson replied evenly. "But it may be a clue." "Clue!" snorted the Superintendent. "Clue! You sound like the gutter Press. Why don't you find me a decent fingerprint and then bring me the finger that made it? All right, I'll ring you back." "I'd rather you sent a note to my flat," said Casson. He had no desire to let Strutt know where he was spending his days. If Strutt knew that, he would horn in on the game too soon. "All right. All right What about two tickets for the first Test Match?" "Certainly not," said Casaon, who could get them easily "You should be spending your time guarding honest citizens." He rang off. Editor Memphis World Gentlemen: On behalf of Tri State Bank of Memphis, I wish to express appreciation for the news coverage given our Tenth Anniversary Program by your paper. Except for the inability of our speaker to get here, our celebration was a success and we desire to thank you for the part you played by your firm. Yours Truly, JESSE H. TURNER, Cashier Dear Friend: "Let's finish the job." is the most appealing theme of any prir March of Dimes Your readers will join the 1957 March of Dimes if they know this message. You have helped to raise funds for patient care, research, professional and public education and to develop a safe and effective vaccine. But the business of polio isn't finished. Much remains to be done before the job of the March of Dimes is completed. I know we can count on you for your editorial help in telling the unfinshed story to your readers. Wishing you and yours a Merry Christmas, I am Sincerely Yours, CHARLES H. BYNUM Director Interracial Activities Tri State Bank Express Thanks Editor Memphis World Gentlemen: On behalf of Tri State Bank of Memphis, I wish to express appreciation for the news coverage given our Tenth Anniversary Program by your paper. Except for the inability of our speaker to get here, our celebration was a success and we desire to thank you for the part you played by your firm. Yours Truly, JESSE H. TURNER, Cashier Dear Friend: "Let's finish the job." is the most appealing theme of any prir March of Dimes Your readers will join the 1957 March of Dimes if they know this message. You have helped to raise funds for patient care, research, professional and public education and to develop a safe and effective vaccine. But the business of polio isn't finished. Much remains to be done before the job of the March of Dimes is completed. I know we can count on you for your editorial help in telling the unfinshed story to your readers. Wishing you and yours a Merry Christmas, I am Sincerely Yours, CHARLES H. BYNUM Director Interracial Activities Heralds Opening Of March Of Dimes Drive Editor Memphis World Gentlemen: On behalf of Tri State Bank of Memphis, I wish to express appreciation for the news coverage given our Tenth Anniversary Program by your paper. Except for the inability of our speaker to get here, our celebration was a success and we desire to thank you for the part you played by your firm. Yours Truly, JESSE H. TURNER, Cashier Dear Friend: "Let's finish the job." is the most appealing theme of any prir March of Dimes Your readers will join the 1957 March of Dimes if they know this message. You have helped to raise funds for patient care, research, professional and public education and to develop a safe and effective vaccine. But the business of polio isn't finished. Much remains to be done before the job of the March of Dimes is completed. I know we can count on you for your editorial help in telling the unfinshed story to your readers. Wishing you and yours a Merry Christmas, I am Sincerely Yours, CHARLES H. BYNUM Director Interracial Activities BREATHETT GARAGE Article in Reader's Digest Reveals Jittery Pre-Menstrual Tension Is So Often a Needless Misery! Do you suffer terrible nervous tension — feel jittery, irritable, depressed — just before your period each month? A starling article in READER'S DIGEST reveals such pre-menstrual torment is misery in many cases! Thousands have already discovered how to such suffering. with Lydia Pinkham's Compound and Tablets, they're so much happier, less tense as those "difficult days" approach! Lydia Pinkham's has a remarkable sothing effect on the of such distress. In doctors' tests, Pinkham's stopped . . . or strikingly relieved ...pain and discomfort! 3 out of 4 women got glorious relief! Taken regularly, Pinkham's relieves the headaches, cramps, nervous tension...during and before your period. Many women never suffer— Why should you? This month, start taking Pinkham's, See if you don't escape pre-menstrual tension...so often the cause of unhappiness. Get Lydia E Pinkham's Vegetable Compound... or convenient new Tablets which has blood-building iron addes. At druggists. * Prisoner Refutes and most are inflicted upon Negro prisoners. The Negro convict said that conditions and treatment of Negro prisoners in the Mississippi penal institution are almost unbearable. During his inspection of the institution, the Mississippi governor said that "the use of the lash today is nothing like it once was." He added: "It's not hat we have a soft policy, we're trying to substitute firmness and humanity' where permitted." MADAM FRANN 26 Cited By ry, 1212 Lincoln; Fred Henry, 1 Arkansas; and Mose Watkins, 1915 Hunter. Six-year pins - Willie P. Taylor, 1492 Echles Road; and Alfred Jefferson, 257 w. Brooks. Five-year pins - J. Guy, 1410 Grand Street; and Jim Ingram, 1766 Grand Opera. Three-year pins - Thurman Perry, 1507 Merlin; and Bennie Crawford, 2426 Hunter. Two-year pins - Junius Ford, 1916 Freemont: Augusta McGarrh. 1359 Wilbec; Curtis Marberry 3496 Hendricks; Onis Burford. 1220 David; and London Hanna, 326 Brooks. One-year pins - Robert L. Baker, 461 Lipford; Spencer Frederick, 1595 Hope; Willie Ingram, 2437 Cable; Herbert Lester, 3356 Rochester Road; Blain Jones, 765 Hastings; and Nathaniel R. Vann. 2134 Hubert Circle. 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