Judge — February 7, 1931 — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE THE GREAT BELMORE RUN [7 "2s cozy in the crowded barroom and Mr. Smithy was glad he had stopped off on his way home, It was a relief to see people gay; Mr. Smith was fed up with all this damned gloom, He nodded jocularly to Charlie, the bartender. “Well, it looks like the worst is over, doesn’t it, Charlie?" Mr. Smith said. “Right. Personally, I think it’s turned that corner.” “And not a minute too soon, if you ask me,” said Mr. Smith. “They were just about to give us rain checks at my house, but we'll call it history now, ¢ Mr. Smith raised his glass. “Cheer “Here's how!" “LT say, Charlie, did you hear the news?” Mr. Smith half turned at the voice on his left. He saw a tired, thin man; medium height, gray-templed, neatly dressed. He had addressed the bartender. “What news is that, Mr. Calkins?" Charlie asked po- litely. (Mr. Calkins—the name didn’t mean anything, but Mr. Smith, somehow, knew that face.) “Belmore got it this afternoon.” “What do you mean?” Charlie asked. “I should ’a’ listened to Evangeline Adams!” “Gone. Finished. Not a nickel.’ mm, Why, that’s bad, Mr. . That's bad.” Morgan's office. We got the news half an hour ago.” “T “OF course it's bad,” said the v on the left. can’t believe it,” Mr. Smith said. The little man shrugged “Tl have a little sherry, please his shoulders and smiled at the bartender. Charlie smiled Mr. Smith put his glass down quietly. He felt his back, knowingly. stomach slowly leaving him, sinking down beneath his shoes. Belmo ‘one. My God, it couldn't be tr Suirin didn't) hesi He bolted to the door, “Excuse me,” he said. He turned to the dignified ched his hat and coat and ordered his surprised stranger. chauffeur back downtown, Henderson, his partner, had “My name's Smith—couldn’t help overhearing you. Is not gone. Mr. Smith gasped his ste nd before he had it true about Belmore?" finished Henderson grabbed the telephone. “Certainly,” Mr. Calkins said. “I just came from Belmore, a director for twelve banks, twenty-one com- panies! One of the oldest banking familics in the country. Why, it would in the biggest panic since 1907! FOR Goops IN > news had not spread, thank the CASE OF FiRE gods. They worked like madmen. ‘They called friends away from bridge games. (NO TRusT| : They called. customers in mido Quietly, but with the intensity of gen- Cas \ erals putting every man in the field for te a last attempt at victory, they called on every known resource in the world to pad their company against the forth coming shock. And they were not a minute too soon. None of the doomed had heard a word about the calamity. They were proud of their friends when y finished. Henderson was able to get support for all their Belmore bank stock and manufacturing shares. They'd have to take the’ ces with the railroads in the morning. At two o'clock the two g ced men shook hands gravely. With any luck, the firm of Smith & Henderson was saved. A great many people lived with Mr. Smith through’ that terrible day. It was just a foggy, evil dream to him. He saw an ithout warning, drop out a twentieth-story window; he saw tradesmen, merchants, railroad presi- ; dents battling | fight fans in a great “You can come out, Mister—it’s only my wife!” (Continued on page 27) 18 comicbooks.com