Page 24 - Demo

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22 Black Mask
from him in a husky whisper. Nasty stuff. Gutter talk from the slums of London. All of his culture forgotten.
"You bloody fool! I'll 'ave your 'eart for this!"
"I'm skipping that gunplay of yours a while ago," Tracy told him steadily. "But I have no intention of skipping the broadcast. If you have any sense, you'll hop the nearest garbage scow and take a quick sneak to England."
mercial at the floor mike. Trac y slipped into his familiar wooden chair, gra bbed his table mike, placed the neat pile of script pages under his eyes. The an- nouncer's voice crackled with the famil- iar introduction that once a week turned a million listening ears toward loud speakers:
"And now the Hilliard Tobacco Com- pany reminds you that 'Where there's smoke there's fire.' Light up and let
Lord's narrowed eyes were bits of America's greatest gossip columnist tell
mica. He kept watching Tracy with a bloodless smile as he adjusted the dam- age to his clothing. He picked up his cane. When he finally spoke he had re- gained both his self-control and his faultless accent.
"I'm int'rested in your remark about gunplay and a backyard fence. Are you suggesting-"
"I'm suggesting that you get the hell out of New York and let Alice Hilliard alone."
"Cards on the table, eh? Right-o. I think I can play any style of game that suits you, Mr. Tracy. If you slander me on the wireless tonight, I'll see that you stop living. Good evening."
He left the building with a quick stride. Butch growled "Nuts!" as Tracy grabbed him. The columnist swung him around and punched the elevator but- ton.
"It's eight o'clock sap! I'm on the air in thirty seconds."
you the news you like to tell your neigh- bors! Presenting-Jerry Tracy! "
Jerry came in as he always did, like sleet bouncing off a tin roof. H e ripped competently through his assignment, tossing each script sheet to the floor as he finished it. The squib about Bert Lord was not in the script. Tracy would be deliberately br eaki ng studio rules by inserting it. He watched the clock and killed his last item to make room for it. He was conscious of the gasp of the announcer as he spoke his piece with hard, nasal clarity:
"What British crook has come to the U.S.A. under forged pa sspo rts on a sua ve hunt for cigarette money? Ac- cording to your corre spondent 's infor- mation this gentleman's spe cialty has led him close to the adopted daugh ter of a well known tobacco tycoon. 'Where there's smoke there's fire' is a swell warning for a crook to remember. It may save him a bad burn when the girl's fath «r; realizes what's going on. Will the crook be smart and scram?
HEY ascendedswift-
Jy. In the upper c01:.- Lord only knows!"
ridor a man's head was jutting anxious- ly . from a doorway. At sight of the Daily Planet's columnist
his worried forehead smootheu and he patted the tip of his nose as a signal to someoneinside the broascasting room.
Tracy's jaw was tight at the sign-off. Dabney, the announcer , stared curious- ly at him. Dabney was a veteran on the hour and a good friend of Tracy's.
"It's none of my business, Jerry, but did Bruce Hilliard 0.K. that last item? "
"Why?"
"I just wondered. Do you think it's Tracy was arriving exactly on time. a good idea to dump a load of dirt in
Even a bullet couldn't spoil his record of never being late for his weekly gos- sip show.
the front yard of your own sponsor ?" "If you got the point," Tracy said slowly, "Hilliard will, too. That's what
The announcer was reading the com- I wanted. If I have to, I'll take the