Life — May 15, 1913 — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

lo. The POLICEMAN with the polished badge of the law firmly fastened to his ample chestiness, armed himself with a sturdy club that he might, if needs be, force the lawless to Justice. He had paid well for his job and he entertained lavishly a heartfelt hope that in some way he might recover in full, and then some. This is why his heart jumped with joy when he learned that the stick which he twirled so jauntily possessed a Magic not unlike the powers of a Fairy’s staff. One emphatic waft of this sawed-off wand and many panic-stricken citizens ran to meet him more than half way. And as they retraced their pussy foot- steps, their pockets were seen to be turned inside out, and much money lay at the Policeman's feet. The Graft was not spurned. “It smells bum,” he said, “but it looks good.” He patted the club affectionately. “T won't wave you again for a while,” he thought, fearing to wear out its Magic. “I mean, not in this com- munity.” He had frolicked but a happy half block on his beat, and had paused for Force of the a moment to cast a melting look of love at a cook in a basement window, when he was approached by a Superior Officer. He looked the Policeman up and down and at last his eyes rested and lingered on a pronounced bulge over his subordinate’s inside pocket The Money moved in its place and whispered: “Come across, or ye git Broke. See?” The Patrolman took the roll from his pocket, tearfully kissed each bill good-bye and, with a joyless smile, passed the money to the Man a Step Higher Up. “You're a faithful Patrolman,” said the Officer, as he handed back one of the smaller bills, “and you'll never be Broke while you do your duty as you've done it to-day.” The Superior Officer turned and, shooting a superior look of superior love at the cook, walked buoyantly on his way. His heart was blithe and merry as he whistled a popular air with boyish glee. He was hurrying to his bank, when he became conscious of an impending grief. A moment later a fat, heavy hand was laid on Police 977 Force his shoulder and, wheeling about, he found himself f. to face with a Politician of Great Power —the Man Still Higher Up. Though the Politician’s smile was cordial, his hand-shake was vice-like and his manner sinister. “That Patrolman of yours is some Magician, isn’t he?” insinuatingly sug- gested the Politician. The wad of money in the Officer's pocket tapped him gently on the ribs and softly whispered: “Do it now. Do you get m A cold, damp chill seemed to sap his strength as he slowly opened his coat and drew out the Boodle. He weakly handed the money to the Politician, who quickly divided it into two equal amounts. “T would suggest,” he said, as he handed half to the Officer, “that you instruct your Patrolman to exercise his Powers more frequently.” The Officer carried the suggestion to the Policeman, who hurriedly kissed the cook and returned at once to the scene of his former Magic, where he vigorously wafted his wand. While many ran out as before, others grum- comicbooks.com