TIGER

Franklin Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 108, 14 September 1938, Page 2

TIGER

(By STERLING NORTH)

ISBlll?!iil!g!Sl!liiS!ill§iElllSI!i]i§igllliliBlS!l§]1118]B!®i INSTALMENT 2G. “These walls are absolutely soundproof,” were Joe Middleton's first words. “It will do you no good to scream.” Jerry could think of nothing' to say. She was frightened and trembling. She pulled the robe from across the foot of the bed and threw it around her shoulders. “You needn’t be afraid,” Joe said. “I only want a chance to talk to you alone.” Jerry was silent. “I hope you like your room and that your visit has been a pleasant one,” Joe went on. “We strive to please. The view of Lake Geneva from your window is one of the best along the lake. And will you take maple syrup or honey with your breakfast pancakes'?” “Please don’t be frivolous.”

“Frivolous?” I can’t imagine myself' being frivolous at a moment like this,” Joe said. “Here I am, undoubtedly the villain of this little piece. I am in a villainous mood because of your absolutely innane stubbornness during the last few weeks. And you accuse me of being frivolous?” He crossed the room and sat on the edge of her bed. “You are more than frivolous,” Jerry said. “You are insensitive to any one’s emotions but your own.” ' “I learned very young,” Joe said, “that when another little boy fell down it didn’t hurt me. I’m naturally sorry that you are in such a dull mood because it makes you less pleasant to converse with. But as for feeling your tragedy or sympathising with your little heartaches . . . “Suppose you had children,” Jerry said.

“I have never felt I could afford them,” Joe explained. “But suppose there was some one very dear to you, and that person was threatened with harm.”

“I can’t imagine anything like that,” Joe said. “I have never been able really to care for any one during my fcrty years of life. As for something terrible happening to this • mythical person. What is terrible? Is death terrible? I don’t think so.” “I shouldn’t think death would be terrible to you,” Jerry said. “You don’t believe in any life after death, so you presumably aren’t afraid. And I should think you would be so thoroughly disgusted with the kind of life you lead that death would be very welcome.”

“What is wrong with the kind of life I lead?” Joe asked. “I think I lead a very pleasant sort of life. . . . This house, for instance. Isn’t it charming? I thought you would like the wallpaper and furniture I picked out. And then I have my yacht and my club, and all sorts of amusing little adventures with my secretaries.” “So I amuse you?” Jerry asked with restrained passion. “I’ll amuse you by scratching your eyes out one of these days. Possibly you are a tiger, but I’m a little black panther.” “A black panther. Very apt phrase my dear. That black lace nightgown was the one I suggested to Colette—” “Will you please leave my room? Or do you want me to scream?”

“I have told you it will do you no good to scream. The walls are soundproof.”

“But my windows are open and I presume that Peter’s are. I should like to see what he would do to you if he caught you here.”

“He wouldn’t be able to do a thing, I fear. You forget that I have a number of pleasant retainers armed with ,455.”

“You and your bodyguard,” Jerry said with scorn. “You would think that your vicious little life was really worth saving.”

“Well, of course, I may be prejudiced,” Joe said, “but to me it is.” “I’d like to see how long you would last with Peter if you were to dismiss your hired assassins.”

“But why should I dismiss them?” Joe asked. “It amuses me to have them around. It makes me feel at least as wicked as Gain, Nero and several of the Borgias. Do you know, Jerry, my ambition in life is to he known as the wickedest man who ever lived ?” “You a pretty small-time Cassanova, if you ask me.” j “I’rn a regular A till a ihe Hun if you : want to know the truth about the mati ter.” j “Lj-sten, Atilla Junior, I was suggesting a few moments ago that you [ wouldn’t last fen minutes with Peter, j I believe you changed the subject.” j “You’d be surprised,” Joe said. “I i could take that young upstart and J break him tike an ice-cream cone un- ; der tiie rear wheel of a ten-ton truck. J He couldn’t lasL will] me long enough i to shake hands.” I "You aren't sport enough to lake i tiie chance,” .terry flaunted. ! “But why should I take chances?” i Joe said. “I’ve proved to you that j I am no coward in a tight . . . As a l matter of fact. I see no reason for j fighting Hie man. I have him where j l want him right now.” J "You’re a coward,” Jerry said witli ■ scorn, "you wouldn’t dare to lie here j Ibis minute if you thought Peter could reach you. You don’t dare to send I your thugs and gunmen back to (t hi- j ■ cago and fight him like a man. You’re | 'as yellow as Mil* cover of a dime no- I j ve I. ” “I am, am J ?” Joe whispered, coming very close to Jerry’s face. “So

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you think I'm yellow, you little . . .?” At Ili.it moment ,ferry .slapped Joe Middleton wild ail the strength in her well-developed little arm. “Either you get out of my room or I'll scream so that it can be heard through seven soundproof walls,” Jerry said. “You are utterly repulsive lo me, and besides I want to go to sleep.”

“Outside of that I suppose you would like to have me around,” Joe said.

“I told you that I would give you your answer Monday at noon. 1 won’t give you any sort of answer on any score until that time. A bargain is a bargain.”

“You and Peter will answer all three of my demands at breakfast in the morning,” Joe said. “That is the one chance you have to leave this place alive.”

“Leave my room,” Jerry said. “I'll go,” Joe said, “but first I wan a kiss.”

‘Don’t touch me,” Jerry said “you’re detestable.”

Joe drew back, glaring. “There is still one possibility that even I have not exploited,” Joe said coldly, and there was no bantering humour in his voice now. “Peter Bail’d lies sleeping quietly not fifty feel from here.. I could if I wished . . .’

“You wouldn’t,” Jerry cried, “you wouldn't harm a sleeping man? A man sleeping under your own roof.”

“A man who would come between me and the girl I wanted? Yes, I

would do anything to that man. “But you don’t understand,” Jerry said earnestly. “He isn’t in love with me at all or I with him . . We’re just friends if you know the meaning of that word.”

“Oh, you’re just friends. Then it won’t matter so much if we . . . just let him go on sleeping for the rest of eternity.”

“Joe Middleton! Sometimes I feel that if I could only get my hands around your throat I could shake you to death the way a terrier shakes a rat .... I’ll hate you till the day I die.”

. “Good,” Joe said. “The more violently you hate me, the easier it will be for me to give Peter Baird exactly what he deserves. . . . Come to think of it, this is the tack I should have been taking all the way along. I’ll even make that a formal threat. Either you move into my house on the north shore or else ...”

“Or else what ... ?” Jerry asked. She found that she was trembling in the cold, dimly moonlit room.

“Or else Peter Baird will go on sleeping until judgment day . . “How can you be so cruel,” Jerry cried, “and so deceitful, and so underhand and unjust and wicked? . . .

Joe, I want to tell you somethin:}’. There have been moments when I have thought I could learn to love you. Yes, there were moments during that trip on the yacht, and again that night after you had shown me the house and we went to dance at that roadhouse. But you were so different on those nights!

“You wouldn’t even be helping youi own cause if you were to harm Peter. You would be making me your bitter enemy for ever and ever. If you want to keep even a 'little part of that friendship . . . .”

“And I do want to keep it,” Joe said in an almost broken voice.

“Then if you want to keep part of that friendship,” Jerry said, “tell me that touching Peter Baird while he sleeps there is beneath even you.” “Jerry, I wouldn’t touch him,” Joe said, and Jerry realised that he was crying softly there in the dark. “Jerry, there are things that even I would not do. ’ Never worry for the welfare of your children, Jerry. And do not worry about your Peter. I would not hurt him while he was asleep and defenceless, and under my own roof . . .” The first light of dawn was coming in at Hie window and the first bird cries came faintly from the'woods. And Joe Middleton, yachtsman, adventurer, captain of industry and the Tiger of the underworld, sat on the edge of a girl’s bed, crying. “I would not harm you either, Jerry. Go to sleep now.” He got up quickly and left the room.

(To be Continued)