Judge — June 1935 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

to the roulette table, lay it on the 00, col- t my 35 to 1 for that, then put that on the . get paid off double, and quit to come winging east. I was sure that Youth and clean living would prevail against even flat dice and wired roulette. So I sang away at the wheel of my roadster till the pleasant twang of a siren and the charm- ng person of a motorcycle police fellow pull- up alongside of me put a stop to any more uch happy thoughts. I found the fellow very sympathetic when I explained that I had forgotten myself and was traveling a little fast because I was hurrying south to make my fortune. He understood per- fectly and said that the law and California courtesy allowed him to collect the twenty dol- lars fine for speeding, thus sparing me the dis- comforts of sitting in some local jail waiting ie for the judge to finish his three-hour conference - ° at the Bar Association. I paid the fine, for what was $20 to what I was coming back with? “It’s a divining rod—I'm trying to find where the old woman A half hour later, I brought up short back s : . a hid my corn likker.” of an old Ford with Towa license plates, curi- ) ously the one I am returning in now. I did ee z place was pritty wild and they were fig’rin’ on mebbe havin’ a so’ beer er two. Behind such lively company I passed thru Long Beach, Cal., without any earthquakes dropping a local Empire State Building on my cocoa, From Long Beach we hustled thru the oilwell forests outside Balboa—a sort of Red Bank, N.J., run by squatters. Thru San Clemente—which seems a lovely city sus- pended in midair so equally distant is it from nowhere. Thru San Juan Capistrano where they have an old mission. Up over Torrey Pines with its boulders and height, then lovely La Jolla, (Page 28, please) some rapid figuring again and realized that $37.50 minus $20 left only $17.50 and decided that I'd better keep behind the Ford (which was burning up the road at about 6 miles an hour). That way I'd be taking no chances at having to contribute my remaining stake to the State of California. This particular Ford was manned by two people who looked like something that had been aged in a duststorm. They looked as if they hadn’t been watered for years. They looked like folks dear to the heart of the Voice of Experience, if you know what I mean. I found on striking an acquaintance that they were going to Tia Juana jest fer a look. They had heerd the comicbooks.com