12 Sports Aces, May 1943 — page 76: what you’re looking at

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

74 32 SPORTS ACES easy flyin the first. His hit had erased all memory of it, at least for the moment. If he could keep on hitting that apple and somehow bluff through with his field- ing until he picked up the knack, he’d have clear sailing. He had no more fielding chances till the fifth. It was a high easy ball. He ran up and took it without any trouble. No Bisons on base, so there was no need to peg it. Luck was with him. He fanned in the third. But in the fifth he knoeked out a triple, then came back in-the ninth with a single. Three for five. Not bad shooting for a raw rookie who had no right to be up with the Grays in - the first place! E TROTTED along the runway be- iM. side Cheeky Graham. He felt good. He felt fine. And then a voice floated out from the grandstand and hit him with the inipect of a bullet. Jeff! Jeff Mellick!”’ He was afraid to look up. It seemed impossible that anybody here, so far from home, could know him. And yet— He rushed a glance toward the voice, saw a frantic hand waving, its owner excitedly scrambling through the crowd to overtake him. Jeff did not know the man. But the man knew him and to that situation there was only one answer. He stopped and turned toward the exit through which his unrecognized friend was coming. He saw Cheeky Graham glance back with a curious frown, then stroll on to- ward the lockers. Then a plump little man with a red, perspiring face had hold of his hand, pumping furiously. “Jeff, you young son—” “Not Jeff, Tom. Tom Mellick, Mr.—” He paused significantly. . The phimp man looked hurt, “You re- member me. Mr. Nolan? Why I sold your dad policies for all you kids, Tom.” He looked nonplussed. “Could’ve sworn you were Jeff. Never forget a face. Can’t afford to, y'know. Not selling insurance.” Jeff took the plump man’s elbow and led him aside. “Lock, can you keep a secret, Mr. Nolan? It’s—important,” The man beamed. “That’s another thing a man learns in this business. How to forget things that might—uh—incon- venience certain clients.” His hand was moving automatically toward his vest pocket. Jeff envisaged the neat business card that was undoubtedly forthcoming, along with a well-rehearsed spiel, “Look, Mr. Nolan. I'll be honest with you. I am Jeff Mellick.” Nolan’s plump cheeks jerked. “I—I don’t understand. In the program it was Tom who—” “That’s just it. Tom’s listed; I played the ball game. That’s why you'll have to help me keep this thing quiet until I can prove I belong in the Grays’ line-up.” Shock and amazement burned in the insurance man’s eyes. “You- mean, they think you’re your brother? You’re posing as Tom!” “That’s right.” “But that’s wrong! Why, it’s even Tom’s name in the contract. That’s fraud, boy. I know these things. You could be prosecuted. Why, you’d go to jail!” The horror with which he invested the word was contagious. Jeff said impatient- ly,” I know. I figured the angles before I came up here. The thing is, if I make good, the club won’t press charges against me. If I don’t—weil, ’ll worry about that when I come to it.” “All I’m asking you,” Jeff said in a cold voice, “is will you keep my secret or won’t you?” Nolan had the tough hide of his breth- ren in the insurance business, but there was no mistaking Jeff’s tone. “Why, it’s none of my business. Na- turally, I won’t say anything to anyone about it.” He looked up shrewdly. The mantle of friendly good-fellowship fell off him. “I wouldn’t have hailed you if I’d known the story. Matter of fact, I was wondering how you’re fixed for insurance. A young fellow like you can’t become in- surance-conscious too soon. A ball player ~~ especially.” The man’s littl eyes bored at him. There was an insinuation in his attitude as he stood there, in his very appearance. Gomichbook (E(0)