12 Sports Aces, January 1943 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

20 12 SPORTS ACES 3 FOO OO OOH Oe Co Gtr O: Gor Or Orbs mentioned that owning the Raiders had become a very expensive proposition. That’s when I began to get smart. The elub’s been drawing big crowds and we haven’t been making Brpenits accerding to your books,” “This ig all a dreadful mistake,” Jen- kins said. “The strain of the whole thing must be catching up with you, Rock.” OCK leaned forward, laughed shak- ily. “No, I’m ealling my shots and Pm not making any mistakes, Ive snooped around and had things checked. What Fve suspected is true. You and Bo Madden and Angel are all in the same elique. The three of you saw a good thing when Connie Leonard took over the Raiders. She had the dough and you snatched the purse strings. The three of you have been dipping both hands into that dough, cleaning up and using the elub as a cover-up for your robbery.” Jenkins dropped the pretense, The in- eredulous expression faded from his face. “You car’t prove anything Gurnsey,” he said. “You'll never be able to make that stuff stand up. If you try, you’re finished. You’re the sueker in this deal, Gurnsey.” Rock laughed shortly. “I'll prove it, ev-- ery word of it. I'll do it at the party to- night, It’s going to be some party, Jen- kins. You want to be sure and be there. Pm going to break this thing wide open.” “Tl take a chance on that,” Jenkins said, Rock reached into his inner coat pocket, - pulled out a packet of papers. “Thisy? he said, laying his finger against the papers, “will turn the trick. it’s all the evidence 1 need. A whole set of figures and the dope on you and Bo Madden and Angel. It’s the works, Jen- kina, Pve had them checked and double- ehecked. There’s going to be a showdown. Maybe itll cost me my skin, but there’ll be a few other pelts to hang up alongside of mine.” Jenkins paled around the gills. But his eyes, small and hard behind his specs, glittered ommously. *You wouldn’t dare, Rock,” he said. “You wouldn’t dare.” Roek laughed seoffingly, turned to Sweeney. “Bring that three grand with you tonight. I don’t know what made them so generous in this ease. But it won’t be long till we get the answers.” It. was on the eve of the Raiders’ de- parture into the hinterlands and the party was in full swing. In Connie Leon- ard’s skytop penthouse, overlooking Park Avenue, glasses tinkled and music filled the spacious rooms, Ht was a strange crowd that mingled and toasted to the Raiders. There were debutantes and newspapermen and stick-scarred puck- sters. It was a party that could only hap- pen where Connie Leonard was concerned. Sweeney’s glance swept the room. The big show was Connie Leonard. The gal was certainly out to get herself a load of publicity. Trailing her like a pet puppy was her lawyer friend, Barry Pelham. . Sweeney spotted Sam Jenkins. The man seemed confident, not a bit upset about Roek’s charges. Sweeney glanced at his timepiece. The hour was moving on and Rock hadn’t put in an appearance. Sweeney felt a strange premonition settling in his bones. Some- body tapped him on the shoulder and Sweeney about-faced to confront Barry Pelham. “Where’s Rock?” Pelham asked. “There’s several questions I'd like to put to him. I’ve also got a few for you to answer. But I’m not going to give you and Rock a chance to get your signals fixed. We'll wait for him.” : “You don’t need to worry about that,” Sweeney said. “He’ll be here. We’ve got beth barrels filled with the answers. So you can start pulling the trigger any time you want.” Pelham smiled aa a “T seriously doubt that. However, we’ll soon find eut.” Pelham turned and walked away. Swee- ney was standing there when Happy Hol- liday sidled up to him. “Your friend Buzzy is on the wire,” Happy said. “If it was anybody but Buz- zy, I'd swear he’d been milking the beer- faucet, You wanna talk to him?” Sweeney made tracks for the tele- phone. At that moment he saw the door open and newshound Lew Harrigan come COPMICLOOOKS (C@)