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A ---- a lw 6 E es BL RRS i WEDNESDAY, MAY 14, 1947 THE : DAILY TIMES-GAZETTE' 'PAGE SEVEN Today's Short Story THE KILLER By Kathrn Bemis Wilson JE SAND, bank clerk, had de- cided to kill a man. Looking back on his forty-seven years, he realized how spineless they had been. Without knowing exactly what to do about it, he had long since grown tired of fetching and carrying for exacting Elmer Dun- ning, president of Webbville's First National Bank. And what had happened lately left his spir- its flatter than any ledger line. John Morrie, the cashier, re- signed to take a job in an east- ern city and the cashier job in old First National became the plum ready to drop into the lap of some lucky man. Joe was next in line for promotion, but he was worried. He wanted to ask Pre- sident Dunning about the board's plans and didn't have the courage. The small blue eyes in his bony face filled with fear at the thought of such audacity. Some- how he couldn't stretch the nar- row shoulders on his short thin frame to the necessary width of confidence. The other employees in the bank were young, less capable of assuming responsibility than an older man, reasoned course the job was already in the bag for him. There'd be no in- ferior complex then! He'd even been too afraid of life to ask a girl to marry him! He could hurdle that foolishness, too, Joe Sand, cashier, one of the most respected men in the village of Webbville! But in short order Joe's hopes were dashed to oblivion. Why did some fellows have all the luck? That young upstart, Harry Coats, who'd been brought on from New Yo made cashier over the heads of the four men having seniority in the bank's marble elegance! Resentment "blazed high until the three younger men got to liking Coats well enough to forgive him. The gen pointed at Joe was ne lo But. Joe Sand, 'eouddn't forgive. he hated Dunning, he hated . His thoughts were erwel hot daggers slashing every moral fiber within h hly in- Sands, the slave, hadn't a' chick- adee's guts. Just because he didn't parade a push and drive was. no proof that he hadn't secret ambitions to rise in banking cir- cles. Now that he mulled it over, he knew there were plenty of people who had reason to hate Dunning. Something ought to happen to wake him 'to this {act, In a way, it even the score with a lot of people to do this killing. There'd be regrets all around, but they'd have to concede that Joe Joe. Of | e hated Sand had a whale of 'a lot of nerve that he'd never shown be- fore. Joe glanced quickly around his modest room in Mrs, Miller's select boarding house, Shakily, he took a gun out of 'the bottom drawer of the tired-looking pine bureau, thrust it into his pocket. The weapon had belonged to his father and was rusty with neg- lect. It had been used for target practice in the Sanu family's small back yard, but never to spill human bldod. It hadn't been shot off in years. Joe it wouldn't fail him--everybody and . everything 'else had. There was new zest to Joe's steps as he walked downtown this morning. It wasn't spring, love, or the fragrance of new green growth about him that caused it. He entered the bank, filled with a giddy elation new to him. Presently, his pen moved across big ledger pages with the drive of-a man motivated by real pur- pose. There was a pile of detail to be brought up to date--in one day. He had to be reminded at noon that it was time to go for his daily chocolate malt. Naturally taciturn, he was even more So now and his co-workers flung him questioning glances and Wwhis- pered among themselves about what was "eating old Sandie." But through it all he was grimly determined, He wa: doing his last duty for the stalwért old bank which had supperted him for twenty years. He had to get everything in order before they took him away--after the killing. He had brought his records up to date near closing time when he happened to notice -Harry Coats doing a peculiar thing. Harry, white-faced, was coming out of the vault, his arms loaded with currency. Joe wheeled and faced a mask- ed man on the customers' side of the cashier's window. The gun pointed at Joe was no toy. "Put 'em up or I'll drill yuh!" As Joe's arms weny up, he noticed the slip of paper the gun- man had evidently slipped under the window to Harry. He guessed it was a note ordering Harry to do what he was doing now--pass- ing all the bank's currency under the window-grating. This -- and the burglar alarm a scant four feet from him and the other two petrified men behind the counter with him! The intruder"s gaze shifted to the rolls of bills. Joe's right hand dropped to his coat pocket. Just in time, Joe dodged the bullet that whizzed past. But the shot he fired was followed immediately by the stranger's curse ..s he hit the floo, As though jet propelled, Joe darted from behind the counter, and up to the still body, "Careful, Joe!" warned Ceets. "It's. a trick--he'N shoot!" But Joe ignored caution, knelt beside the hefty stranger, laid a hand on his bloody shirt front. Then he got quickly to his feet and announced dramatically, "The skunk's dead--quite dead!" Something like knighthood valor went saili through Joe. Why, this was ! Never had he felt so--masterful. Why, he couldn't feel inferior to anybody or anything after this! Nor afraid. Not even afraid of --himself. It was .a lucky break that he hadn't gotten around to that kill- ing he'd planned to do today. After all, it would be a pity to disgrace thé Sand name. No man ever got even with anybody by putting a bullet through his own (Copyright) Science Stealing Glamor from Cupid Science is killing romance dead. Deader than a doorknob or a cat that has just completed its ninth life. Stabbing it in the back, so to speak. . Science, in fact, seems to be tak- ing an unholy glee in stripping all the glamor away from Cupid . . . at least that's what it's trying to do in spite of some conventional old so-and-so's who try to thwart 'it. And after all, who can wax poetic over things science has shown there is nothing to be poetic about? ' Rough on a Date The scientist is contributing won- derful new discoveries to the world, and winning prizes and citations and diplomas. He must have an awful time on a date .. . ' He meets :a beautiful woman. "Ahal® he thinks. "Lovely teeth. Calcium." He muses a while. "Good eyesight, too-- This backs up our theory of carrots!" The babe comes closer--and she IS a babe, mind you, with curves all in the right places. "She ought to be careful!" muses the scientific gentleman. "Wrong kind of make-up for her type of skin, Could it be . . .? Yes, by golly it is! She's already develop= ing a skin condition!" + i. . Wonders About Allergy He may even detect a slight case | of sniffles in the beauteous one-- and forthwith wonders which aller- gy she has. He hopes it isn't the brand of shaving cream:he uses. . s If he isn't already entirely dis {illusioned, he may even take har dancing. He isn't happy about it, though. It's not very healthy to be in crowds. > So he takes her for a stroll in the garden. Allergies, calcium, carrots and all, he still finds that his hear goes pit-a-pat. It's very unscien- tific And there he. is, planting a kiss on the, young lady's lips in the moonlight, And whispering sweet nothings. And comparing her lips to ruby wine. And it suddenly oc- curs to him that thousands and thousands of bacilli are going into a war dance from just that one little kiss. Science says so. Science in a case like that just doesn't play cricket. Even if science did discover the bacilli, why didn't it keep dumb on the subject? Why didn't it keep its mouth shut? 'Then there's this business of the moon. Does our scientific gentle- man show it to his lady love and mutter beautiful blank verse on "yon golden orb high in the vault of the blue sky, etc. . . . etc,"? He does not. He tries, But he can't make it. He knows it isn't a beautiful golden orb at all. So he says, "My dear, do you know that there is no atmosphere on the moon? Do you realize it's just a hunk of meteor filled with craters and either too hot or too cold?" (To which remark the young lady is NOT likely to coo "Please tell me more!) : Wife Preservers . bonnet that brought '"ooohs* British Nurses Deny Food Lack Critical Atlantic City, N.J., May 12--A group of nurses from Great Britain, here to attend the Ninth Congress of the International Council of Nurses, yesterday disagreed with re- ports that the food situation in England was extremely critical, Miss E. Maud Crothers, general superintendent of the Queen's In- stitute of, district nursing which takes in the 8300 members of the visiting nurse service in Great Brit- ain and Ireland said: "We're not starving! but we're very limited. We had one serving of steak here last night that was the amount we'd have for a week at home. And fats and sugars are short, of course "British housewives 'are bored with the same food day after day, rather than starved. They are also tired of the difficulties of getting the food, standing in endless queues." . The nurses agreed that Great Britain is suftering from one shori- age, however, about which no one has any doubt--that of nurses. "We're thinking of every plan to attract suitable women to enter the profession," Miss Crothers said. "The demand for trained visiting nurses has increased because people have been educated to the need for the best type of service." That problem is one of several that will be discussed during the week. Others include: working con- ditions of nurses, minimum require- ments in nursing education, the place of the nurse in social medicine, development of industrial nursing and international exchange. of post- graduate educational opportunities. This is the first Congress in 10 years to be held by the council. Nurses from 32 nations are ar- riving today. A total of 5,000 grad- ute and student nurses is expected. Delegates from _Great Britain, China, Denmark, Sweden, Mexico and Canada were among those who arrived early. Among the speakers during the | week are Dr. Brock Chisholm, ex- ecutive secretary of the world Health Organization; Major-Gen- eral Norman T. Kirk, Surgeon Gen- eral of the United States Army; Dr, Thomas Parran, Surgeon General of the United States Public Health Service; Dr. Edward L. Bortz, pres- ident-elect of the American Medical Association, and Dr, Robin C. Buer- ki, director of the University of Pennsylvania Hospital, representing the American Hospital Association. Sharman's Apple Hat Startles Old London London, England. -- Ambassador Lewis Douglas' pretty daughter Sharman and her "apple hat" startled Old London Friday. The pert, 19-year-old blonde from from Arizona, much noticed since she arrived last week, invaded a Mayfair fashion show in a straw and "aaahs" and duchesses. Photo bulbs flashed and, in a matter of hours, London's millions knew that Sharman had arrived and also, according to one newspa- per, that her apple hat was all the rage among the younger set in America, An apple hat, in case they've es- caped you at home, is a flat-look- ing straw, something with a thingu- magig on it, It looks a great deal like an omelette strewn with ketch- up. from mannequins "Also who so woll use the game of anglynge: he must ryse erly, whiche thyng is proffytable to man in this wyse. This is to wyte: moost to the heele of his soule, for it shall cause him to be holy, and to the heele of his body, for it shall cause him to be hole. 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