Judge — April 23, 1932 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

\W Very wormlike I said, “When ould you like my cop) He responded like a barracuda to human leg:—"“Tomorrow. _ It’s " gotta be good stuff, too! d, “O.K. ll be there with id, “I’m running the works ow and you're working for a bank. You'll be at the Trust Co. at 9.” With that he blew a whistle a‘- tached to his vest. Two Vice-Presi- dents raced in, dressed in porter’s iprons, and picked up my desk. CHAPTER TWO MANAGED to get to the Trust Co. only by sitting up all night. Oth I couldn't have made it, ince it is against my principles to se before noon, y » I've always thought it interesting to work for a lank. I've wanted to see if I am mbezzle-proof. And I also wanted to id out how Vice-Presidents d velop clammy eye, why tellers alw: take it for granted your chec ibberoid, and why Bank Guards have large feet and live in Flushing. It would also be handy for me to cash checks. My Receiver-Editor ushered me to 1 des’ “Here you are. When your opy present it at the Chief Teller’s window. Have it endorsed by two depositors of this bank or it won't be honored. at down and looked around. ‘ywhere in that vast granite ex- panse, my eye fell on Vice-Presi- dents, all dressed the way a Tam- many alderman dreams about. In between fish-eyeing checks come to them for endorsement, they CANT ) LEGAL! wave “Hat! AGT LEGAL! -AND You CANT Go AROWD BEING JUDGE sharpened pencils, read papers, and whispered among themselv They also did a lot of note passing, and only came to order when one of them nearest the door suddenly hissed, “Cheese it!” and the Bank President strode in for daily inspection. After he had looked at their nails, he put them thru a few rounds of “clammy eye.” Then he went out and they all went back to turning down loans and removing tails from kited check This grew tiresome after a while, so I put my nose into my work, which was quite hard since I had none of my working paraphanalia handy. I'm the only living writer who works with a model. To work well I need a full chorus, several cocktail books and a large bin of inanity handy. However, I finally got some hother-pother dashed off, endorsed and sub- mitted. I tried to make my escape, but several Vice - Presi- dents intercepted me, crying. “Looky! He’s trying to sneak off early. He hasn't even balanced his book: I slunk into my seat, shamed, when ANoT 23 “To VICE-PRESIDENTS WEARING TORTE APRONS STARTED CARTING AWAY ALY DE in rushed Mr. McStash, the Receiver. He said, flashing the copy before me (it looked as tho it had been dipped in Reckitt’s Blue, it was that edited), “Where are the pictures that go with this junk?” A_ wicked vapor brain. “Oh, th pictures. You can get them by calling Circle 0-666 and asking for Jeff Machamer. He draws them—when you can get him.” He went away looking like a man who about to call Circle 0-666 and, what's more, get it, instead of a man about to wrestle with what is called the artistic temperament. A few minutes later found him back. “Who is this Machamer, and who does he think he is? I called and I was told he was too busy to come to the phone. That he vw busy waxing his moustache! I'll teach him! I'll make an asset of him!” He grabbed the phone, had a rush of purple spots to the jowls and again called Mac. He acted, in other words, just like an editor. This time Mr. Machamer, he v told, was busy trying out a 19 snuck into my model. Later Mr. Mac was over to his tailor’s; busy in conference with Miss New Rochelle; judging a con- test to see who had the most beau- tiful Dietrichs. An hour and a half later he finally got him. He said, “Machamer? This is the bank; it’s after banking hours. Why aren’t your pictures in?” (Page 29, Please) comicbooks.com