Evening Star Newspaper, June 30, 1929, Page 88

THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, JUNE 30, 1929PART 7. - In the hustle and bustle of the game’s start no one noticed the departure of Light Horse Harry Pilken, the genius of it all. A Comedy of C'rookdom on a Glorious - Fourth of July — And It W as Enjoyed by Every One Except | the Hero. By H. I. Shumway IGHT HORSE HARRY” PILKIN looked over the town of Lenster and it rated, according to his pe- culiar method of classification, 100 per cent. That is, it was a hick town, and yet it wasn’t. For one thing, it was 'Off the beaten highway—alone by itself.’ That 'was nice. | It kad one main street and that was the mame of it. There was a neat bank with or- curved and spiked iron guards. These Mr, Pilkin chuckle inwardly. They as well have been cheese. There ere also perhaps 30 stores of various appeal. was a fish rod factory at one end town, so he found cut later. - Lenster was like a girl with all the necessary ingredients of a peach, who was still wearing mutton leg sleeves and skirt bindirg that swept | the dust. All there Lut, oh, so somnolent! Mr. Pilkin liked ’em that way; not girls, towns. Funny how he happened to get off the rattler at just that point. He had never heard of But traveling from Boston over the | B. & A. he had been dreadfully uneasy over a man who was sitting not quite opposite him in the Pullman smoking car. That man’s face stirred up something and Mr. Pilkin wished to heaven he could place him. Now that was a queer facet to Mr. Pilkin’s tharacter. It was darned uncomfortable to one < ‘of his profession not to be able to remember ° & face instantly. Was he a dick? Or was he another member of Mr. Pilkin’s own fraternity? For 40 miles his busy brain hammered at this problem. P FmALLY, after a general summing up of all the disturbing gentleman’s ensemble, Mr., Pilkin grabbed hLis new pigskin bag and got ‘off the train, not even knowing what station it ‘was. He didn’t care if it was just a water ‘tower. That guy with the big feet and red ‘jowls was something Mr. Pilkin wanted none of. -~ As a matter of fact, the gentieman was a ‘garter salesman from New York and he had ‘glared at Mr. Pilkin because he was trying to ‘think of a word of four letters meaning rumi- ‘mant to fit into horizontal 47 of a cross-word ‘puzzle. g So Mr. Pilkin had practically descended upon ‘the unconscious town of Lenster blindfolded. -‘Subsequent events assured him that it was a bountiful fate that had done the trick. | Light Horse Harry registered at the Mansion House, all the while engaging the clerk in airy persifiage. Was business good? How big a place was Lenster? And was there anything moist ‘around that wouldn’t be too harsh on the ‘stomach? And he, himself? Oh, just a man interested in real estate development and in- ‘dustrial projects. 4 It didn’t take Light Horse Harry very long to check up on the possibilities of the town. It had, as has been noted, a neat bank and some stores. And we hope to tell you, a police force, night and day shifts. One man by day and another separate one by night. Lenster was that good! Light Horse Harry on his first day in town ‘approached the day force with secret forebod- ings inside, Officer Jeremiah Hooker was & littlie short of six feet, hard as nails, ruddy of face and steely blue of eyes. But a couple of good cigars brought the HooRer affability to the surface. “Well, you can’t get lost in this town,” he said, good-naturedly, “So you're looking for the fish rod factory? Follow this road around the ‘river, and it's just the other side of the bridge.” “Fine,” observed Light Horse Harry. “This is a fine town. I like it. T may buy up here and start a business.” “What business?” “Real estate. I'm a developer of town prop- erty. You know it wouldn't take much to make & busy little city out of this place. No, sir.” “No—only a few dozen factories and a hun- dred stores,” snorted Mr. Hooker. “I know this burg. Born here and went away—and now I'm back for good. I've seen all the bright lights of every big city in the United States—and, believe me, this little old place looks good- to me.” “Oh, s0 you've traveled,” said Mr. Pilkin, ly. “Yep. On a ball club. I was ‘Nifty’ Hooker, right fielder for the Pink Sox up to five years ago. That’s how I traveled so mueh——" “ ‘Nifty’ Hooker,” observed Light Horse Harry. “Gosh, I thought I'd seen you some place. I've seen you lots of times. Gee, it must be tame to you here in the sticks—-" “Not so bad—only for one single thing” sighed the ex-athlete. “There’s no ball club— not even an amateur team. You see——" LIGHT HORSE HARRY lost contact with surface words for the moment. His busy, searching brain had suddenly reached out and grabbed an idea. “Hum,” mused the visitor. And the population is——" “Four thousand seven hundred and sixty,” prompted Mr. Hooker, shifting his cud of Navy Cut. “Some of ’em adults anyway.” “Any money?” “Good. There’s not much chance to spend gy"here. Only one movie, and that ain’t so “When are you off duty, Mr. Hooker?” “Lunch at 12, but off for the night at 6.” “Will you have dinner with me tonight at the Mansion House?” smiled the dapper new- comer. “I've got something on my mind—and you're just the man for me. We can talk it over at dinner, What do you say?” “Sure. I'd be glad to.” “Righto, then,” chirped Light Horse Harry. “Meet, you here a little after 6.” As he moved jauntily away, Mr. Pilkkin felt he was stepping high, wide and handsome, He hummed a gay tune as he strolled past the bank with its funny mid-Victorian curly iron guards. This was going to be a haul that would make a vacuum cleaner ashamed of its own weak- ness. Mr. Hooker relaxed several hours later, even unbuttoned his vest, that gastronomy might be unconfined. It had been a nice din- ner. He kept nodding while he ate and Light Horse Harry kept talking. “Yeah. Yeah. Darned if I don't @ink it's “No ball teams. e Best Laid Plans the darbh. Yeah. Two clubs would be easy— and after that I bet we could get three or four. And the Sunset League is a nifty title.” “Youwll be manager, see,” observed Light Horse Harry, eyeing him narrowly., “Msanager of the Town Tigers. That will include the police force, the fire department—and you say the mayor once played shortstop on Mount Mulberry College?” “Yeah,” said Mr. Hooker, gnawing a chicken bone. “He’s nuts over the game. Pesterin’ me all the time to go out and throw a ball with him. With me as pitcher and him at short, that’s a—a——" “A nucleus,” prompted Mr. Pilkin. “Yeah. And then the two fire laddies, as the Lenster Gazette calls 'em—they'd be tickled pink. That's four of us. Lessee who else we can dig up.” Two hours later, over their third cigars, the Sunset League was pretty well lined out. “Darned if I had any idea there was so much talent in this old town,” rumbled the ex-star of the Pink Sox. “Now how about the gate?” “Ain't there a park here of some kind?” asked Light Horsc Harry. “Some sort of & and so on. And now the eother—hum—iet’s call it the Rainbow Boys—meaning they're re- cruited from every business in town. “Fine.” “There’s two in the bank, you say?” observed Light Horse Harry. “Is that all the talent there?” . “Hum. Yeah. Old Bradlaw is too old to play—but Headleigh, the payin’ teller, is a husky chap and I know he'd like it—and Sansone, the recelving teller, will be O. K. That's about all there is in the bank anyway.” “Oh,” said Light Horse Harry, relighting his cigar. “Well, we've got it pretty well mapped out. You see all of the boys you can tomorrow and if youll introduce me to some, that will give me a wedge to do some campaigning myself.” “Fine,” said Mr. Hooker, rising and stretching, “Gosh, I feel happier than I have for years, Never could get along without base ball. I'm darned glad you came here, Mr. Pilkin.” “So am I,” smiled Light Horse Harry. “I know we’ll make a killing!” Lenster may have been napping a long time, but it sure woke up with a bang. Under the inspired missionary work of Mr. Hooker and Light Horse Harry, the Sunset League, consist- ing of two ball clubs already and one or two potential ones, was the main topic of conver- sation. Already rivalry had sprung up. “Nifty” Hooker had challenged the Rainbow Boys for an exhibition game the fellowing Friday night. And already a third team had sprung into being with speed to shame a nervous mushroom. The Rangers, composed entirely of workers in the fish rod factory, were all formed and out for practice. “WBAT we've gol to have,” suggested Lighg Horse Harry, “is more rivalry. An inter- city league ain’t so hot as one where there's some town spirit. Isn’t there some town near here—-" < “There is,” replied ‘Nifty’ Hooker. *Jackson, about 5 miles down the river, ought to- be Light Horse Harry stid silently around the big safe and found himself looking into the muzzle of a black automatic. place with a grandstand or seats? any jack we gotta have——"" “Gosh, I'll say there is. I clean forgot. The county fair grounds. It's pretty level and a few of us could lay out a diamond in no time." “Great. We could hire a couple of workmen for groundkeepers——" ‘The limb of the law grunted. “Say, I al- ways have a_few hobos in the calaboose with nothin’ to do but time. Why pay for the lawn bein’ mowed when I got a perfectly good jail?" At the mention of jail Light Horse Harry shivered slightly. But he recovered and went on wits the airy castles. “The Town Tigers,” he mused, tapping on the tablecloth with & knife. “That's you boys —the police, fire department, mayor, edltor To make Officer Hooker has enjoyed the din- ner. He nodded while he smoked, and Light Horse Harry kept on talking. good for a team. Well go down there and sound ‘'em.” £ It was as easy as touching off a skyrocket. Not only would Jackson outfit a ball club worthy of her proud traditions, but she would fix up the village green into a ball yard. The first real game on Saturday afternoon between the Lenster Tigers and the Rainbow Boys must have drawh 4,760 souls. On a hurried errand in a borrowed car, Light Horse Harry circled back to the heart of Main Street to see the results. It looked like a town bereft of human habitation, “What a pipe!” murmured Light Horse Harry as he wandered here and there, trying doors. body buy Casaba John’s fruit. Wat da hell?” “Say, what are you stockin’ around here for?" . “Why, everybody is cart and go out there where the big doings n da United States she first come to me. Bott!dlmnllcethdamrtmdrunalldam out!” “And I guess that about makes this unani- mous,” mused Light Horse Harry, as he watche ed John's frantic efforts to get where the ex- citement was. “All I've gotta do is just pick the psychological moment—and then—the grandest pickin’s ever. Oh, The proprietors of the Sunset League kicked Continued on Nineteenth Page.