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Judge, 1932-11 · page 30 of 36

Judge — November 1932 — page 30: what you’re looking at

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Judge — November 1932 — page 30: Judge, 1932-11

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DON’T-SIT-HERE! ts roll on the floor, Jump on So long as you bs tay set their glasses, you eam join in the merrl- ment yourself. last word in furnitare protection. ous Dr. Seuss, for only to sou, ¢ Write to Dr. Seuss, care of Judge Magazine, Ine., 18 Bast 48th Stevet, New York City, at ence—and insure 5 egainst that “will they-ever-leare’” feel LIQUOR Dispensed by the New PROSPERITY bringing back 3 pint of an: Place one of t hie press his ear amd he'll dispense the CUP. It bit “rowdy”, Bit down now and send us $2.95 and you'll get hime Postpaid. HOME GADCETS, Dept. 4 200 Sth Avenue, N. Y. Money beck if eat ‘completely BELIEVE IT OR NOT The Tropics has moved to New York And New Yorkers who know, prefer the Tropical Restaurant. JUDGE for yourself its unusual a delightful d_ atmosphere music and a de- licious cuisine. DINNER to 9:30 LUNCHEON $1. $0c. 65c.+ 40 East 50% St. CURES FOOTACHE OR HEADACHE Te you're an ardent space-filler-inner who has found pleasure in Judge's three Cross Word puzzle books, we know you will be delighted with the fourth book of the series, published by popular demand. Fanovs tor that, what-shall-wedo- tonight feeling. You ean secure a I as the three pre- apiece by stranger no time to answer bocker PF become- known and recognized personalit Your signature will help us serve you better. Chicago's HOTEL KNICKERBOCKER Walton Ptace (East ‘of Michigan Blvd.) fe This Remington Pocket Knife HUI NG FISHING | “I Want a Policeman!” (Continued from page 11) mornin’, We'd be in one hell of a fix, we would.” “T don’t know the number,” I said, biting a sizeable piece out of the tran: er. “Can't some of your detectives figure out what building it would be if you know it’s directly behind Sixty East Ninety-Sixth?” “Um-m,” he said. I could see him rubbing his third chin. “Um-m. That’s north side, Mr. Farley?” “South,” I said. “He's just climb- ing on to the roof now. I could hear the slow, labored scratch of a pen— he probably was just learning to write, from the sound, After an appreciable interval, he spoke again. “South, eh?” “That's right,” I choked. “He’s a tall, stooped man with a felt hat. How soon can—” “You think he stole a felt hat?” “No,” I said, with a wild cackle. “He's got it on his head, strange to say! Can you imagine such a thing?” “Hey, you” snapped the voice. “What're you trying to do, kid m What'd you say your name was? “I'm a tall, stooped man,” I said. “With a felt hat, crawling up the side of a building on East Ninety- Fifth Street.” “I thought you said ‘Ninety-Sizth Street’” retorted the voice. It held a ring of triumph. “Don’t seem to know your own story very well, do you, Wise Guy?” RESTED my head on my _ hand. Outside, the commotion had sub- sided—the windows across the court were again a wall of grey. Save for the distant rattle of a trolley, the silence was unbroken. “It’s mugs like you,” said a bitter Irish voice in my left ear, “what get the force in wrong with the news- papers. Callin’ up here with a lot of hooey that don’t add up and ex- pectin’ us to rush the Riot Squad all over hell's half-acre for—” “In your hat!” I yelled. hat, you big, thick—” “Oh, yair?” came the rebound. “Well, lemme tell you something, Mister Wise Guy!” “You can’t tell me a thing!” I was, suddenly, a little terrified at the sound of my own voice in the silence. “Why, you big, thick—” Across the court, windows slammed up again. A light snapped on, “Listen, you!” bawled a coarse voice. “If you don’t stop that damn yelling I’m gonna ‘phone the police. How do you like that?” “Just a minute,” I said. you put on.” “In your “T'll have comicbooks.com