20
Shirley had delayed his evening meal to fit his appointment at theModel Trucking Company. Near eight o'clock he crossed the street to goup the alley to Cherry Street. At the crossing of the dark alley heencountered a policeman and was greeted casually by that officer. Infront of the lighted office he accosted another officer, standing in adarkened area near a car parked in front. "Maybe this is a warning,"he thought, as he stepped into the well-lighted office.
He was greeted cordially by Anzio and was introduced to the two otherspresent. "This is Don Carlin, our custodian here, and this is JanDamino, our most trusted employee." Carlin was a slight young man, buthis companion differed much in size and considerably in age. Damino,aging to baldness, was a commanding figure. Thick-chested, with armsand legs of considerable size, his seamed face revealed a ragged scarfrom temple to chin. Both nodded acknowledgment of the introductionand Carlin brought a chair for the visitor.
"I'm glad you've come," said Anzio in pleasing tones. "Your brotherreports that you have been badly informed as to what this company isdoing. We want to correct any such wrong ideas."
"No one has given me any information about you," said Shirleyscornfully. "I was out to the old farm and saw with my own eyes justwhat's going on."
"Ah! You paid us a visit and we didn't know it. Somebody has beennegligent."
"That's right! Your carefully guarded distillery had a visitor. I usedto live out there. Knowing about your locked gates and posted guard, Iwent on the farm from the rear. I edged up to see your still inoperation in the old shed. I saw your bottling plant in the big barn.It recalls the old adage: 'You can't fool all the people all thetime.'"
Anzio's face clouded as he planned a reply. "You didn't go in closeenough to see what was being bottled and labeled? You are willing tospread a false report without having the facts?
"What you glimpsed in your casual snooping was the details of the onebusiness in this community that is prospering. Out in your family'sold farm, Doctor David Allen, formerly of St. Louis, is preparing,mixing, bottling, and labeling 'Allen's Stomach Bitters' that has beenfamous in the South and Southwest for many years. He is now pushingsales in the North and East. Because of its vegetable content, just asmall amount of alcohol is a part of the mixture.
"You saw only the sidelines in your snooping and you are putting out alot of misinformation," concluded Anzio, "and to set you right, I havearranged for our trusted employee, Damino, to take you out there andshow you the whole works. The night shift is on and I want 'em to showyou every detail of the business."
"Will Damino furnish a round trip ticket?" asked Shirley, as he arosefrom his chair.
"I don't quite know what you mean," countered Anzio.
"Oh, yes you do," said Shirley emphatically. "Damino here is a'one-way' man. It's his business to destroy opposition. I wouldn'tride with him down State Street, let alone a country road. With him atthe wheel, we couldn't get past that thicket down by the bridge."
"Get him out of here," roared Anzio as he waved to Damino to obey hiscommands.
Damino approached his quarry cautiously. With his right hand hefingered an inside pocket of his coat; withdrew the hand to place iton Shirley's shoulder. "Let's git goin'," he said as he shoved Shirleytoward the door.
Shirley had seen a move that he thought important. He grabbed theextended right arm to give it a jujitsu move up and to the back of thebody. It made the assailant grunt and his left knee buckled in itsuncertain stance. Quickly Shirley reached in the inside pocket towithdraw a lengthy Colt revolver. Shifting the weapon to his righthand, he brought it down in a mighty blow on the temple of hisassailant. Damino fell to the floor. Carlin fled the room by the backdoor. Shirley turned to find Anzio frantically searching the contentsof a drawer in the nearby cabinet. Placing the gun in his pocket,Shirley seized a tall, steel-legged stool to bring it down on Anzio'sunprotected head. Anzio joined Damino on the floor. Shirley walked outthe front door.
On the sidewalk Shirley encountered the policeman. "What's going on inthere?" he demanded.
"Not much, just now," was the reply, "but I was certainly busy for ashort time. Why are you here?"
"Your friend, Fred Townsend, is responsible. Fred is seemingly not intouch with our present city administration, but he sure has a strongpull with our chief. Fred phoned him to send two or three of the forcedown here to see that you were not killed or taken for a ride. Wedon't know what it's all about, but we're here. Ah, here's company,"the officer added as another policeman came out of the alley, shovingCarlin in front of him.
"Is this the finish?" inquired the alley officer. "This fellow,"pointing to Carlin, "came out of the back door rather hurriedly andbegan searching in a pile of junk. I thought that was a part of thatplay. What's it all about anyway?"
"This is the finish, my friends, and I am very much obliged for yourpresence," said Shirley as he prepared to leave. "But there's a couplein there that may need first aid. Go right in; give what assistanceyou can, and call me if I'm needed."
Shirley watched the perplexed officers as they went into the frontoffice. Then he walked leisurely up the alley to Oak Street. Nearingthe railroad, he heard a freight train slowing down at the water-tank.Now he hurried to pass down the train to a boxcar with an open door.He crawled in. As the train pulled out, he went to a front corner, satdown to pull off his shoe and place a neatly folded twenty-dollar billon the inner sole.
Whatever his future was to be, Shirley Wells was on his way.
PART THREE
21
David Lannarck arrived in Chicago in the late afternoon. Wanting tosee Bransford in the daylight hours, he stayed the night with a friendat the Miami Patio to take a morning train to his destination. He hadnever been in Bransford and he preferred to take an open cab to theGrand Union so that he might look around. At the hotel he was assignedthe parlor suite with telephone and bath, probably because the clerkhad never before registered a three-footer with the face and voice ofan adult.
Davy was not yet ready to announce his plans for rehearsals. He wantedto know more of local conditions. He phoned the Fred Townsend office."Mr. Townsend is in court this morning," the secretary reported, "buthe will be available this afternoon."
"Save me the first hour," said Davy. "It's important to both of us."
After luncheon Davy tipped the bellhop to accompany him. "I couldprobably find the place," he explained, "but I go better if I amhaltered and led to the spot." As the caller hoped, Townsend was in.The secretary ushered Davy into the private office.
"I was sent here by a Mister Sam Welborn," Davy explained. "He wantsto learn of the legal status and community standing of a formerresident by the name of Shirley Wells."
"Shirley Wells! Do you know Shirley Wells?" Townsend sprang to hisfeet and walked around the desk. "Is Shirley Wells alive? Available?Can I get in touch with him right away?"
"Say, Mister Townsend, out in my blessed locality, where men are men,and the women are glad of it, they accuse me of asking eight or tenquestions before the first one is answered. I want to take you outthere to show 'em I am an amateur. For a year or more I have beenassociated with an upstanding gent who gave out his name as SamWelborn. In all my public career I've never met a person more honestin business or more fearless with thugs and undesirables. Ten devilscouldn't stop him if he thought he was right and even a midget could,and did, shame him out of some of his atrocious efforts. When hereached a certain goal in his persistent activities he disclosed to usfour at the home where he headquartered that he was going back to hisold home town to find out just where he stood--criminal or citizen. Heplanned to go back there in disguise; to listen in, to read oldnewspaper files, and to learn the truth.
"And then I horned in. This man Welborn had saved my life; he got meplanted where I wanted to be; I owed him everything. I didn't ask--Ijust told him--that I would go to his town and, under the pretext ofrehearsing a midget show, I would get the needed dope. He fell rightin with my proposal. He disclosed tha
t his name was Shirley Wells,that his home town was Bransford, and here I am."
Townsend went to the door of the office. "I will be busy for the nexthour," he said to the secretary as he closed the door.
"Just where, and how soon, can I contact this Shirley Wells?" Townsendasked as he seated himself alongside of Davy. "This is really the onlytime I've needed him since he left. Where is he? I'll send him all thefunds needed to get him home."
"He's in Denver, just temporarily. I do not have his address, but hewill be in this Chicago vicinity by the end of this week. Maybe hewill be disguised, but I hope not. He will phone me at the Grand Unionto know how he stands in his home town. That's what I've come here tofind out. Is he under indictment? Will he have to serve time? How muchmoney is needed to clean his slate? Will a mob form if he shows up onyour city streets? What was it he did, anyhow?"
Fred Townsend laughed quietly. "We are both so anxious to getinformation that our cross-questioning is confusing. However, when youdescribed your man as honest, persistent, and fearless in dealing withcrooks and thugs, I would have known that you were talking aboutShirley Wells, even if you had omitted the name. He's just that!
"Shirley Wells is not under indictment, and when he returns thegeneral public will give him a hearty welcome. In fact, had he stayedhere for a day or two after the incident he would have been a hero.Would have been carried at the head of the mob of women that paradedthe streets of our city in protest of conditions. He would have been apart of the orderly crowd of men that went out to the old farm todestroy the offending distillery. Shirley Wells started the clean-uphere, and it spread to all affected localities. This is the story."
Then Fred Townsend told the story, to include the history of the Wellsbank, of Shirley's army service, of Carson's banking relations withthe Chicago mobsters. "For nearly a decade this Shirley Wells was asilent do-nothing. He seemingly hesitated to claim his property rightsand yet had nerve to invade the stronghold of these gangsters and tell'em the truth. He nearly killed two of 'em and the other disappeared."
And then Townsend detailed what followed as the morning paper gave bigheadlines of the desperate adventure. It not only recited that the twowere hospitalized in a critical condition but it gave insideinformation as to the illegal business being conducted at the farm."That evening, nearly a thousand women paraded our streets to themayor's office, with banners flying, to insist that there be aclean-up of the entire illegal business.
"The next day, fully fifty automobiles assembled at Fifth and CedarStreets to drive out to the farm and burn down the old shed where thestill was located. I was in that party and I easily persuaded them toallow the house and big barn to remain unharmed, but all bottles,labels, cans of liquids, crates, and containers were thrown in thefire. The house-furnishings revealed that it was the headquarters forthe many employees, but none were present, either to welcome orprotest.
"On returning to town it was learned that Carson Wells had committedsuicide. His worthy wife was not at home, was not present at thefuneral. She is reported as living in Chicago, a housemother at asorority of one of the universities.
"The Wells National Bank was of course closed. I was appointed thereceiver. Things were in a terrible mess; negligence and forgeriescaused a lot of added work, but the bank had a valuable asset in thatthe stock was held in one family--wasn't scattered to causecontentions and delays. I recovered the farm, held on to the bankbuilding, and charged the forgeries and shortages to Carson's account.Shirley is possessed of the remainder, but it's not enough to dowhat's required.
"This city needs a bank. The nation is recovering from the depressionand very soon business will be back to normal. The Wells National mustbe restored to service and Shirley Wells, the man who started theclean-up, must be connected with it. His service in cleaning out thosecrooks was, and is, the big asset.
"Here in my office I have prepared a list of names of those who can,and should, take stock in a bank. With Shirley here, we can canvassthis list for the needed subscriptions. Surely we can...."
"Just how much money will it take to revive a bank?" asked Davyquietly.
"Forty or fifty thousand dollars will be required to complete thesubscriptions and show a small surplus and I think we can----"
"Why, Shirley will have that much, and more, in his upper vest pocketwhen he arrives," and then Davy told his lengthy story to an eagerlistener.
"I have known him for nearly two years," said Davy in concluding hislengthy recital, "and in that time he worked hard--too hard. Iupbraided him for it. Now, knowing why he was so continuously busy,working to restore his family name and credit in his home town, Ishould have kept my mouth shut."
"Do you think he will consent to taking charge of the restored familybank?" asked Townsend. "Will he apply the money to that end?"
"I'll see that he puts up the money. He says that half of it is mine,but he may balk on taking charge. And that's our present job. I have afriend in Springfield that's the greatest little banker the world everproduced. I'll get him here, or send Welborn--I mean Shirley--to himto learn the game."
"This has certainly been my lucky day," said Townsend as the partybroke up. "This morning the judge approved my settlement of thelong-standing Norris case, I received a letter containing a draft ofan outstanding debt, and now the important Wells bank receivershipsettles itself. Let me know the minute Shirley arrives."
Davy's hours of impatience were interrupted on Saturday morning by atelephone call from Chicago. The booth at the Grand Union afforded theprivacy needed.
"If you are in your own clothes...."
Davy's directive was interrupted by a hearty laugh, and a promptinquiry: "Am I under indictment?"
"Naw! You're not under anything. You're at the top of the heap. Yourscrap started things. Get out here on the first train--there's a lotto do and I've pledged you to carry out all the plans as proposed byyour friend Townsend. There's lots to do. Get here at once."
And Shirley Wells of the East, Sam Welborn of the West, did as he wasdirected. He arrived in Bransford shortly after the noon hour. And therest of the afternoon he was listening to Davy's story and Davy'splans. Sunday morning, at the Fourth Avenue Church, he was cordiallygreeted by many, some of whom he had ridiculed at a former session.Monday, the full day was spent in the office of his friend Townsend.Tuesday, Ralph Gaynor of Springfield arrived in Bransford in responseto Davy's telegram, wherein it was suggested that "one carfare wascheaper than two."
Shirley Wells admired Ralph Gaynor but he marveled at his methods.Instead of taking him down to the bank building to review the formermethods of conducting the business, Gaynor persisted in interviewingany and all with whom he came in contact: business and professionalmen, farmers and laborers, women clerks and housewives. His questionswere casual, the extended answers were his reward. That evening, inTownsend's office, he delivered his estimates and opinion.
"Banking service is badly needed in your city. Your present plans aretimely. A news story should go out tomorrow that the organization isformed and will be functioning next week--this to prevent others frominvading this fine prospect. You have present opportunity to securethe services of young Nelson, down at the Wide-Awake, as a receivingteller. He is fast and accurate in money matters. The young lady thatcompiled Mr. Townsend's reports can, and should, take care of thegrowing bookkeeping. You will not make a great deal of money in thisfirst year of operation. After that, you will have the best bankinginvestment I know of."
"But what about our new cashier, Shirley Wells?" inquired Townsend."What's his job? He and his little friend here own practically all thestock."
"The banking business," said Gaynor, "has its peculiarities. Back ofthe counter, it's simply a matter of accuracy. In front of thecounter, however, it's a question of diplomacy and good judgment.Shirley Wells is an asset. His business is in front of the counter,greeting the trade and broadening the field for service. A bank musthave assets if it is to make loans."
The Wells National Bank,
with its tidy and growing millions of assets,is functioning at 201 North Oak Street, Bransford, U.S.A.
Just where should these ramblings end? A tragedy ends at the death ofany or all; a comedy ends with one of the revived jokes of formeryears; a biography should terminate at the grave, and a romancefinishes as the groom carries his hard-won prize across the thresholdof the cottage or palace. What's the finish here?
A start was made to tell the life story of a midget, but complicationsarose that could not be avoided. Instead of traveling the infrequentpaths of the Lilliputians the journey has, in many instances, sweptdown the traffic-filled thoroughfare of the big adults. But midgetsare few in number, they have few contacts with each other. In mostevery instance, their employment is to exhibit themselves to thethousands and thousands who come to see and comment.
Midgets do not go to war, cannot win a prize fight, or bust one overthe right field fence for a home run. Their field for service islimited to public exhibitions; their contacts wholly with thequestioning adult. The tragedies of a midget are of the lighter sort,comedies prevail only in a minor degree, romance is a limited factor,and in this particular instance, these ramblings cannot be classed asbiography--the principal characters are still alive.
And because they are still alive and functioning, the reader isinvited out to the Adot vicinity to see--and maybe participate--in thecontinuing story.
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