STATION L-O-V-E

Matamata Record, Volume XIX, Issue 1788, 3 December 1936, Page 6

STATION L-O-V-E

By CRAIG CARROLL. Copyright.

CHAPTER 22. “Yes, Elton.” Jenks put clown ills cigar, squared his narrow shoulders, narrowed his eyes. Prepared for battle, Judy knew. Prepared for Day’s cold business tones. “Ad. You heard what I said a while ago about Judy. She’s getting forty a -week from you. That’s all.” “That’s a good salary for a girl, isn’t it?”

Judy wanted to say, “Yes,” to shout suddenly, “I’m satisfied. I didn’t want whatever it is Elton Day is trying to get. I won’t take anything no gets for me.” But there was no chance, for Elton had answered curtly, coldly. “No. That’s fair enough for a stenographer, but stenographers are a dime a dozen in this man's town. But a voice ” His hands spread eloquently. “You’re getting more mail than you ever got before on any programme you put on. Right?”

“Well ” the man hedged. “Never mind, I know,” Day said.’ “I've checked up. You’re a thousand letters ahead of last week. Don’t yoc want to protect your interests?” “Judy’s voice brings in the letters,’ Elton Day said to Jenks. “Means .more business than ;you ever -had Iri your life. But—r-” Day leaned for - ward, his thin hands like knives pointing at the little man. “You haven’t got a contract with Judy. Or with me. We could both walk off your show tomorrow and now that you’ve established Judy’s voice and my copy as your stuff —-—” \ \ Flavin, the advertising man, panicstricken, interjected. “Day! Wait a j minute! Listen.” A wave of Elton’s | hand silenced him, as it had silenced Jenks.

“This is no hold-up,” Day said, smiling a little. “Not exactly. Bui forty a week for Judy Allison isn’t enough. Or a hundred a week foi me. Judy’s going to have to worli on another beauty programme, I guess, to make a decent living. So will i. So I’m getting a. script ready righl now for the New Youth people and Judy’s going to talk on that one, too.”

“New Youth?” Jenks barked, forgetting. that people were staring from other tables. “Why, they’re my biggest competitors. They ” ‘Exactly,” Elton agreed, smiling a little. “Your biggest competitors. And you and I know their stuff is as good as yours any day.” “That’s not so,” the little man remarked.

“Never mind, Ad,” Elton said.. “Good, bad or indifferent, they’ve heard how well your Beauty Builders* show is doing.” “You told ’em, eh? Went right over to my competitors and showed ’em the figures on my programme?”. “Ad, I'm not In this radio business for my health. Neither Is Miss Allison. We’re in It to make money. That’s the same reason you’re in your business. And you get markets where you can, don’t you? Well, we’re doing the same thing. Got to.” We. We. Over and over, that word. As though they were partners, as though she were a party to what she was hearing. Judy’s cheeks flamed, her hands moved restlessty, she knew that in a moment she would shout at Jenks, “Nothing he says has anything to do with me. I don’t want more money; I’m satisfied.’ ’ But how could she? The letter from her mother. Send money home? Oa forty a week? You can’t. But with a little more? It was Diok who said, “There’s- no sentiment in i;adio. Get what you can!” Wasn’t that what everybody said about the business? “You do a show for that New Youth crowd and I’m through with you for good. You hear that, Elton Day? You hear that Miss Allison?” the

little man snorted. “Can’t bluff me!” He pushed bach his chair, started to rise. “Waitl” Elton Day commanded. “Sit down ,Ad. No use going away

lilie that. I’m being fair. I’m telling you in advance. I didn’t have to. I could go on the air without telling you. But we’ve done business together for a long time. I’m putting my cards on the table with you, that's all. And” —quiclcly—“and Miss Allison is putting her cards on the table, too. Sit down, won’t you? If you say it’s O.K. to go ahead on that other show —” (To be Continued).