Judge — June 10, 1922 — page 28: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Murder By Monte Sohn LEISTER wasn't a professional mur- derer. As a matter of fact, he wasn’t even an amateur murderer. He used to sit in horrified silence when- ever Ernie Coler bragged of bringing down several hundred clay pigeons. His wife drowned all the rats that were caught in the trap; and once, when little Jimmie killed a squirrel, Leister was ill for a week. But he wasn't afraid. He was only worried. He feared he might make a botch of his first murder. He feared that something might go amiss. What if he should not kill his vic- tim? What if he should only half kill him? Leister shuddered at the possi- bility of only half killing Carmody. He would be the laughing stock of the town. The gentle breeze coming through the tiny window above him was to him a breath of winter's worst. He shiv- ered. Would Carmody never descend those She—I bin yer slave long enough, Joe Wetherby! An’ I tells yuh I'm done! Yo’ don’ never git me nuthin’ like other men gits their wimmin! He—Why, Liz, haow yeou talk! Didn’ I git ye a new spade an’ hoe las’ garden makin’ time? An’ only las’ week I bought ye a new washboard. stairs? Would he never come down for the promised drink? Could any- thing have happened to him? Leister’s hand, nervously holding the ax, dripped with increasing perspiration. What was that? At last! Carmody was making the descer His shoes squeaked as he came, and, hearing their familiar squeak, Leister was glad. Have you ever killed a man whos¢ boots squeaked? I do not hold that squeaky shoes make homicide justifi- able. But they make it easier. Carmody now stood on the cellar floor. As he stood there, peering about, Leister stepped from behind the wine barrel that had hidden him and swung the ax. It clove his victim to the eyebrows. It was neatly done, and quite a credit to Leister (rankest kind of a rooky), and Car- mody fell in a freshet of his o blood. Quickly Leister dragged the body to the fuel bin. He shoved the body into the hole he had prepared and swept the earth over it. Then he applied a layer of coal, and over all a layer of cement, level with the cellar floor. He swiftly mounted the stairs — MEET FLAT WAS R JON WHOSTHIS, WHOSE | ENTIRELY VACANT | | | | een | | ee | He SIGNED THE COUPON FOR THE “WHY BE STUPID?” BOOK, JSENT IT AWAY WITH A DOLLAR- CON- | | TRACTING TO PAY NINE MORE WHEN ITH NICE To CE EDDICATED THE BOOK COMPANY BOTHERED HIM, ME FEEL Payment AND WAITED [HE KNOWS EVERYTHING EXCEPT UT WHO BUILT 7 “UNCLE Toms Canin” | THE BOOKS ARRIVED-- AND NOW COLLECTOR WHERE TO GET THE OTHER NINE DOLLARS pat i There are a gist of cultivated things in the country besides the corn and taters. 6 comicbooks.com