The Courier News from Blytheville, Arkansas on February 6, 1956 · Page 9
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The Courier News from Blytheville, Arkansas · Page 9

Blytheville, Arkansas
Issue Date:
Monday, February 6, 1956
Page 9
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COURIER ! NINI OUR IOARDING HOUSE — with Major Hoopl. ANOVCL? NOT THIS TI/V\B,T*J|SSS/ I'M PR6PARIMS OCATIOrtS FOR j YEAH.THOSE ARCHES rtEVEl? SKIP A MOW ASCOT FeeeuARV 14 ARE tHEYTAI<IN<5 TIME- OFF TO POSE COMIC HOvJ FELLOYJ PATRIOTS OF OWLS CLUB ALWAYS CSLE6RATB WITH Asl ELABORATE F054 AMD TO-DO/ OUT OUR WAY •y J. R. Williams rr POES NO aoop 'BOUT Tri' BJSSEP LIFE *X> LED M E^SJS^— ^^ ^ j~ "2 HEY. BAZOO! CONGOS ^ ( 1 IKES/ ) 5 OUTSIPF WAITING TO j V _^s •Z CHOP You POWM; ^ ~V WITH IT—BUT AT LEAST IT. SAVB ME A HEAD START at Twilight Just a Corpse By Robert Martin THE STORY i James Dcnnclt, (•TCfltlitctor for tfce Slat* Indm- trtml Welfare Com ml AN! on, went t* Beech Tree. « small village, to Ontt onr the exnct c»H»e •«»< rranfe Oahora'a death »ii month* with the Hnderlakci Tweed, in hold n» nnt< II THE Winchester Inn was built of red bricks which had faded through maybe 100 years to the pale color of blood diluted with water. It stood high and square in the center of a circular drive •which no doubt bad once been cobblestones but which was now , sleek black asphalt A black- and-white sign over the portico read. Winchester Inn—Rooms— Meals—Cocktail Lounge. On th lawn facing the square stood an other sign, wired for neon. The unlighted glass tubes said simply Tourists. I wasn't a guest, but t parked my car in the reserved area, : walked back beneath the portico ;to the front stoop. I stepped into the lobby. At '6rst H, too, seemed deserted. I Then I saw a movement behind ithe desk. I walked over. A girl jsat before the switchboard, her slender back toward me. She iw'as reading a book open on her [crossed knees while one small jmoccasined foot bobbed nerv- iously. I stood for a moment gazing down at her. Then I said, ["Pardon me." She turned and looked up at .me with startled blue eyes. Her lace was small, like the rest of I her; a short nose faintly dusted I with freckles, a soft little lip- sticked mouth, sand-tinted eyebrows neatly plucked and now arched in surprise. "Oh!" she gasped. "You scared me." "I'm sorry." I nodded at the book on her knee. "That must be a very absorbing story." "It is." She held it up for me to see. The jacket illustration depicted a cemetery with the tombstones glowing red in a setting sun against a somber background of bare gnarled branches. The title was "Just a Corpse at Twilight" and the author, whose name was Pat Carstairs. smack- Ing of a pseudonym, was unknown to me. "Nice title," I said. "I like him," she said. "No cliches, no hard-boiled stuff, no whisky and blondes and all the rest. He just writes about real people with real problems. Why, even without the murders, his books are interesting, and that's the supreme test of a mystery novel, don't you think?" "I never thought much about It," I admitted, "but you may have a point Could you tell me if—7" "Yes," tttt broke in, "we have • room." "I don't want a room. I Just wanted to ask i< Dr. Jarrett '« in." • e • HEH blue eyei narrowed «u«- piciously. "How do you know Dr. Jarrett live* here?" I leaned acrou the desk. "Don t ipread it around," I said confidentially, "but I've been tailing Doc. I'm i private eye." "He's not here," she said in the same crisp voice. "This is his day off." Her eyes flared defiantly. "Even doctors arc entitled to a day off If you wil tell me your name I will be glad to give him any message." "You're his secretary?" A faint flush touched her cheeks and her eyes wavered "Well, no, not exactly. I—I'm Just his landlady,'tort of. I like to help him all I can. Dick—I mfian Dt. Jarrett — works too hnrd. Except for old Doctor Lavel who doesn't practice much MT mm, b*'i the only doctor IB She turned and looked op at me with startled blue eye she g-asped. "YoH scared me." "Oh!" town and people pester him all lie time, day and night." 'Doctors choose their profession," I told her. "No one forces them to study medicine." She gazed at me silently for a moment, and then slowly her expression softened. "I guess I lever thought of it before. But I'm afraid you're wasting your time—I'm sure he doesn't need any gauze or tape or aspirin tablets or hypo needles." "I'm not selling anything." I gave her one of the cards the Commission had furnished me. It was printed, not engraved, because the Commission was .on a state budget, and it said simply, James T. Bennett, Department of Investigation, Industrial Welfare Commission. On this card and »everal others 1 had written with a pen, Blue Ridge Hotel, Steel • • • SHE glanced at the card and dropped it on the desk. "I'm orry, Mr. Bennett, but the doc- or is in Steel City and I don't tnow when he'll be back." "I'll wait a while," I .said, and erked my head toward the tap room. "Will it be all right if I lave a quiet beer?" "Certainly," she said coolly. 'Draft or bottled?" "Are you the bprtender, too?" "Today I am. Our regular bartender is at the hospital. His wife's having, a baby." "Bottled." 1 said. I followed her across the hall and into the bar. Except for the muted drpne of i radio upstairs, it was very luiet I drank my beer and jmoked a cigaret. A folded newspaper lay on the bar. I opened t idly saw that it was The Beech Tree Clarion and that it was published every week, on Thursday, as most weeklies are. That would make it yesterday's paper. I glanced »t the front page, noted the canned wire service stories on national and world events, as well ac a variety at local items including one which was headed CARELESS SHOOTING A MENACE. I began to read. Within the P»st w«ek complaints have been received by Sheriff Abner Cornwall^ 'ram a a r e 1 ft s • and promiscuous ahootlnff of firearms near farm housen and outbuildings, especially in the wooded are» north of Beech Tree. Stray bullets striking- barns and houses have been reported, and on the Jesse Scottberg (arm a Poland China sow was killed by a bullet. It Is assumed that boy» with .It rifles are responsible and Sheriff Corn- wallls has promised an Investi- k-Mlon. "Hcisldenls ol Beech Tree should realise." Sheriff Cornwallis warned, "that the population In the section le Increasing and extreme care should be exercised by hunt- era and others shooting n wooded areas." aliorljr Cornwallis also asked tliji the tvartnto tif children with rifles caution them about— "Whore's Roy?" a hoarse vole Mktd. I looked up from the paper. A tall thin old man in a soiled and wrinkled seersucker suit stood in the archway. He had a red blotched complexion, thick black eyebrows and white hair showing over his ears behind a dirty and creased panama hat. "Who's Roy?" I asked him. . "The bartender." "He's having a baby—I mean, his wife is." He looked annoyed, "It's time for my sundowner." "Sundowner?" "My evening drink," he snapped. "Roy knows I always have my sundowner." I said politely, "Perhaps the young lady will serve you." "Lucy?" he scoffed. "Only Koy has the right touch." "Maybe it's in the refrigera- , or," 1 suggested. "Why don't ou look?" "Yes," he said eagerly. "That s Roy wouldn't forget me." He loved briskly around the bar nd lifted-a-stainless steel lid. Ah!" he exclaimed triumphantly s he placed a glass on the bar. Roy didn't forget." * * • THE glass was tall, frosted, nd contained at least a half pint of dark amber liquid. The old man carried it to a table, sat down, took a black cigar from a oat pocket, struck a match .eneath the table. When the .igar was burning evenly, he ettled back in the chair, blew moke at the ceiling. I was curious. "May 1 ask what you're drinking, sir?" 'Sundowner," he said. "Four parts bourbon, one part sweet ermouth, a generous dash of Angostura bitters. Stir gently until chilled." He held out a thin veined hand. "I'm Abner Cornwallis." As we shook hands, he said, "Sit down, son." 1 took a chair opposite him. • 'Cornwallis?" I «aid. "Sheriff Cornwallis?" He nodded. "Yep. Been sheriff of Beech Tree County for 14 years." 1 grinned at him. "Any relation to the general?" He nodded. "Yep. Way back, though." He squinted at me through the cigar smoke. "How'd you know I was the sheriff?" "I just saw your name in the paper —about those kids being careless with rifles." "Oh, that," he sighed. "Mort kido around here., own rides and they go out in the hills to shoot target; and maybe some rabbits and snakes." He chuckled. "Davy Crockett and Dan Boone stuff. No harm meant, but they forget how far a rifle bullet carries." He squinted «t me. "Stranger in town, huh?" "Yes. My name's Dennett." "Uucyl" he bawled over hit shoulder. "Servici) In the owl" (T. B* Ce*U«M«> By BILL WALKER •\»,W.' RECKON WESHOOCO INSOR rrT-LEETLE ONE WITH _ W.L.WALKER INSURANCE AGENCY Glenco Bldf. Phone 3-4360 "How about showing us your driver's license?" "I'd rather have Marie, please—she gives such a grand shampoo and she's keeping close tab on a young divorcee in our neighborhood!" — VOU IAEAMIW. MARSHALL TELL VOU, TWEUU MID JI WILL BE MY DAD? BILLY, IS THAT CLNTi AND I ACe SONG TO BE MAKIEQ I'LLTWTO 'SrJ SEASCOD ONE, BILLY YOUR TROUBLE, BOTTS, IS VOUR WIFE WANTS TO DOMINATE YOU.' Cold Waves Starting At 00 up '5 Moderne Beauty Salon 111 N. 2nd St. — Fhone 3-3132 T WAS JUST 001 NO TO ASK IF>OO'PUk'EMETD6TAV LATCANP HOP •rDU WITH THOSE RUSH ORPER5 HVISHttXl'PWARN ME WHEN "lO/EE CjOINcJ TO BE HELPFUL, MEEKLE. UPSET «Y WHOLE RADIATOR WORK • Boiled Out • Repaired • Flo Tested • Re-cored ALL WORK GUARANTEED GROVER'S RADIATOR WORKS 508 Cl. Lake Ave. Ph. 3-6981 I UNPEKSTAWP, WASH. I , CWAB TO GWB vou HIS KEYS OH/OWE IW, I TO TH6 LA.B, ANP TO CLEM? OUT HIS PE£K...FOK THE LA*T TIME M,R$. KElU. AWFUL'SOKKY I WA.SNT ABLE ID IP6MTIFV DK. KELL1 MM6E- PHOT0GRAPH OF WE...HI PIPE ...A FEW PEKSOW& LETTERS. I LEFT ALL Tl TECHNICAL PAPEK51 GC NISHTi WA5H...IIL LEf WfeElF OUT WE'VE GOT IT! Over 33,000 different items in stock! HUBBARD HARDWARE ' OH.YES...ANP THEY'RE CONG HOWS \<}KAY...SEEMS OLD GENTLEMAN \THEY'RE IN OOP DOING BACK \ .FORT IN B70? HAS HE ] WORTH., FOUND HIS s HORSE YET? - SISN ON A. EH? HCW \ STORE PVA KNOW THAT'S FORT / THERE. WJRTH- TOO HAPPY; CC85HEP LETS WATCH AND SEE WHAT GOES. WONPER WHAT HE'S COINS IN COVVTOWN? RECKON MV LONG SEARCH FOR PR. MILLER'S JUST LAY OPF TH' RACKET, 6LUTZIE. VER D1STURBIN MV1?EADIN'! BUM, LOAFER ...VOU SHOULD MfLP COME LEFT A LITTLE, WATCH OUT FEE THAT CRATE 0' EGGS'. a * .."WE XfTIEST ' WrWC GERTIE' SOUCYTIMG MCrtOEV OWDER WVtSfc Wt CftUSt? V>OU> VOUR VWTS, ' //• |ii*i»iiHym-"V

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