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The Wilmington morning star. (Wilmington, N.C.) 1909-1990, February 11, 1940, Section Two, Image 20

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn78002169/1940-02-11/ed-1/seq-20/

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J. VV Cj A _
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One of the fastest growing Building and Loans in the State of
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112 Princess St. Offices: Foster-Hill Realty Co.
I what" ARE your * "Tj
Dr. W. A. Kamer J
Eyes Examined—Glasses Fitted 1
Bulluck Bldg., Wilmington, N. C. ^
Woodmen of
The World
Live Oak
Camp No. 6
Regular meeting at 8 "M.
Hall Third and Princess Sts.
Monday. All Woodmen in
vited to attend.
W. E. DAVIS, Fin. Sec.
Ladies Select Your
Spring Coat at
Credit Clothiers
22 So. Front St. Phone 476
;! The New R. C. Allen '
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It pays for itself. Stops
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i Saves customers. 2 Models— t
' $65.00 and $95.00. J
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PHONE 2460
James Anders Lost Eye In
Wreck As He Fled From
ATU Agents
James Anders, 24, negro, of Wil
mington, is being held in New Han
over county jail in default of $300
bond for trial at the spring term
of the federal district court in Wil
mington on charges of removing and
concealing 15 gallons of non-taxpaid
Alcohol Tax Unit investigators of
the treasury department here said
yesterday that Anders entered a plea
of guilty to the charges Friday
afternoon during a preliminary hear
ing before U. S. Commissioner Por
ter Hufham.
Anders was injured Monday when
he attempted to elude ATU agents
during a two mile, chase from the
Smith Creek bridge to the Princess
Street road just inside the city lim
ATU agents said Anders was trav
eling at a high rate of speed and
apparently lost control of his ma
chine which overturned in the mid
dle of the highway.
Anders suffered the loss of his
right eye and sustained painful but
not serious lacerations about the
head, shoulders, and body in the
smash. The defendant was released
Friday from a local hospital and
was given a preliminary hearing on
the charges immediately. ATU of
ficers said they recovered about 15
jars, most of them broken, of non
taxpaid liquor in the defendant’s
Court Order Decides
Ownership Of Hound
GOLDSBORO, Feb. 10.—UP)—Su
perior Court Judge Henry A. Grady
signed an order yesterday award
ing a “female beagle hound" to
Amos Prince, thus ending eight
months litigation over ownership
of the dog.
Joe Brown, Jr., entered suit in
Magistrate H. S. Toler's court,
claiming the dog was his property.
The magistrate ruled for Prince on
July 5, 1939. Bro-wn appealed to the
higher court.
Two Prisoners Serving
Murder Terms Paroled
RALEIGH, Feb. 10 — UP) — Two
second degree murderers and four
other X'risoners were paroled today
by Governor Hoey.
The men serving terms for kill
ings were Jacob Garrett, sentenced
in Guilford county in October, 1933,
to 14 to 20 years, and Lawyer
Lattimore, sentenced in Cleveland
county in January, 1933, to 15 to
20 years.
Scarlett O’Hara and Her Maid
“Gone With the Wind" will show at the Carolina theatre h*re, be
ginning Monday, Feb. 2fi. for a week or more. Vivien Leigh, who takes
the part of Scarlett O’Hara, is shown with her maid, played by Hattie
BY HELEN WORDEN newsservice! 9|NC.
MARIE LA PORTE — model in
exclusive dress shoppe, lives on a
DAN DONOVAN — playboy son
of a rich- Irishman, in love with
TOMMY RYAN — leader of the
truckers fighting Marie’s father.
LYNDA MARTIN—society debu
tante, wants to marry Dan.
father, owner of a fleet of barges.
* * •
YESTERDAY: Unable to find
Marie, Dan agrees to his father’s
idea of a party with the Martins.
Dan gets tight, but avoids men
tion of his engagement to Lynda.
Later he goes to the dock, finds
the Molly gone. He drives toward
Dan Donovan and Tommy Ryan
turned obviously unfriendly backs
on each other at the Albany docks.
They had been waiting since early
Friday morning for the La Porte
barge, Molly, to dock. It was now
10 o’clock and the New York tug,
with its brood of canal boats was
still jockeying about in an effort
to nose its brood through the open
ing of the locks.
Tommy reached for the mega
phone the dockmaster held.
“Hi-yu, Molly,” he bellowed.
No answer.
Without saying a word, Dan took
the megaphone from Tommy’s
hands. “Hi-yu, Molly,” he yelled.
Still no answer.
“Them barge captains must be
deef and dumb,” volunteered the
dockmaster. He stared at Dan’s
tuxedo. “Keep yer shirt on and
the boat yer lookin’ fer will come
The two boys, ignoring his
philosophical advice, paced ner
vously back and forth on the pier.
Dan’s right eye still showed the
effects of Tommy’s fist. His -white
dinner shirt was w’ilted and his
hair straggling. Once or twice he
glared at Tommy, but beyond that
there was no sign of further hos
Tommy, sure of his superior
strength, remained magnificently
indifferent. In spite of lack of
sleep he felt cocky. Bat thought
he could carry Marie off. Well,
he’d show him. Still in the glow of
the day he had spent with Marie,
he forgoj the unpleasantness of
the later evening. Marie didn’t
’■now what she was doing. His as
surance changed to disappointment,
when he saw that the Molly was
not among the barges being shoved
in by the little tug.
“Where’s the Molly?” Dan spoke
“You mean Bat La Porte’s
barge?” roared the tugboat captain
from his berth in the pilot house.
“She developed a leak!"
Dan’s face paled. “Where is she
“Back in New York for all I
know. Least she started in that
Tommy wasted no further words
on the dockmaster or tugboat cap
tain. Jumping into his truck, he
headed for the Albany Post Road.
Dan waited for the tug to come
abreast of the docks. “Where do
you think the Molly is?” he asked.
“’Bout Spuyten Duyvil if she
made time,” was the laconic reply.
Dan was in his , roadster and
shifting the gears before the man
had all the words out of his mouth.
“There’s a road that follows the
Hudson all the way down, isn’t
there?" he cried to the dockmaster.
“Yes, sir. You can't miss it if
you keep the water in sight.”
* * *
Luckily for Dan s life, the high
way was practically clear of. traf
fic when he nosed the car into the
river road, settled down in his seat
and stepped on the gas.
. It was a foggy morning and he
hadn’t slept all night, but that
didn’t bother him. In fact, he felt
exhilarated. As long as he was in
action he could deaden the hurt in
his heart.
Humming a tune, he whizzed
through villages shaving squawk
ing chickens’ tails with the rim
of his wheels, spinning precariously
past farmers’ drays and driving in
furiated pedestrians off the road.
It was his Irish luck, he told him
self, that saved him from the cold
eye of a motor cop.
Occasionally, he glanced at the
river, ribboning its leaden gray
course between the rolling banks
of the Hudson Valley. Save for an
-occasional small tramp steamer or
flock of barges nosing northward
behind their tug, the river was
clear. The traffic would come fur
ther down. But it was past noon
and he’d reached the Hendrick
Hudson highway before he saw any
tugs headed south and then, not
one towed a barge. Had the Molly
sunk, was it forced ashore further
up or had it made the canal ter
minal, he asked himself.
It was after 4 when he parked
his car by the hot dog stand at
Pier Six.
“Back again, I see," commented
the hot dog man, as Dan climbed
out of his roadster. He eyed Dan’s
dinner coat and w'aved a hand in
the gerrsral direction of the canal
boats. “She got in early this morn
Dan grinned, too relieved to sec
the Molly's green shutters to
speak. “Everybody safe?” he fin
ally inquired.
“Why not?" demanded the hot
dog man.
But Dan didn’t answer. He was
already running to the La Porte
barge. A crowd "of children gather
ed on the dock near the Molly, at
tracted by the noise he made as he
hammered on the closed hatchway.
Fascinated by his dinner clothes,
they stared silently.
"Nobody home,” a small boy ven
tured finally.
"Where are they?” yelled Dan.
"Marie’s gone to work. Her pa
and ma left just after.”
Dan reached in his pocket- Frank
relief' spread over his face as he
scrambled back. "You kids buy
yourselves some lollypops,” he
cried. "If you see Marie La Porte
before I do, tell her I’ve been look
ing for her.”
He walked back to the hot dog
stand. “Why did the Molly re
turn?” he asked the man.
“Leak.” He flipped a hot dog on
the griddle. “Bat’s mad as a wet
hen. He’s gone to get a repair
“Mrs. La Porte go along?”
‘‘No. She’s over on Broad Street,
marketing. Had her shopping bag
on her arm.”
Dan smiled. “And Marie’s gone
to work?”
The hot dog man became cau
tious. “I didn’t ask.”
As Dan was climbing into his
roadster, a car whirled up and two
men, one carrying a camera, jump
ed out.
"There’s young Donovan himself,
wearing a tux at 4 in the after
noon,” the photographer shouted,
focusing his camera. Both ran to
ward Dan.
“This is luck, Mr. Donovan,” the
other began. "I’m Larkin of the
Looking Glass. Is it true that you
and Marie La Porte are . . .”
The camera clicked.
"What do you think?” Dan step
ped on the gas.
* * *
The doorman at Varnet’s looked
twice but asked no questions as
Dan, hatless and in dinner jacket,
stalked through the main entrance
at mid-afternoon.
“I want to see Miss La Porte,”
Dan told a bewildered floorwalker
in the made-to-order department.
“Tell her Mr. Daniel Donovan is
Mr. Bluet, who lived in terror
of Varnet, fluttered back to his
boss office. “Mr. Donovan is here
to see Miss La Porte,” he stam
“Well, tell her, you fool.” Var
net bobbed up. “You mean Mr
Daniel Donovan, I suppose. Don’t
keep him waiting.”
Bluet scuttled down the corridor
to the models’ dressing room
“Miss La Porte,” he babbled
“Mr. Daniel Donovan wants to see
you in the main salon.”
Marie half sank on a chair. “Tell
him I can’t see him,” she answer
ed. Bluet hurried back to the salon
Dan, with a solicitous Varnet at
his side, was waiting eagerly He
started forward.
“Well, well, where is she?” de
manded Varnet.
“She sayo she can’t see him ”
the floor-walker began.
Varnet rearranged his face and
turned to Dan. “Excuse me a mo
ment, Mr. Donovan.”
In the models’ dressing room he
eyed Marie, his face white with
Four young men from Southeast
ern North Carolina enlisted as ap
prentice seamen in the United
States navy during the past week
at the Wilmington district office
of the naval recruiting service, F.
L. Williams, local recruiting offi
eer, reported yesterday.
They included: Joseph A. Potter,
18, son of Mr. and Mrs. John T.
Potter, of Route One, Chadbourn;
Daniel M. Smith, 18, son of Mrs.
Minnie R. Smith, of Route Two,
George D. Herring, III, 18, son
of Mr. and Mrs. George D. Herring,
Jr., of Route Two, Warsaw; and
Norwood E. Bostic, 19, son of Ed
F. Bostic, of Warsaw.
They were transferred to the
naval training station base at
Hampton Roads, Va„ for prelimi
nary training prior to assignment
to various ships of the U. S. fleet.
They were accepted and selected
for first enlistments through the
Wilmington district office, located
on the second floor of the postof
fice building, which services the
counties of New Hanover, Bruns
wick, Bladen, Pender, Columbus,
Duplin, and Sampson south of
Troop 34 Scouts Hold
Father And Son Banquet
Boy Scouts of Troop 34, Trinity
Methodist church, held at; ther and
son banquet Friday night.
Guests included David L. Liles,
area executive, the Rev. J. L. Je
rome, pastor of the church, Scout
master Thomas White, Mr. Jones
and E. L. Matthews.
Each patrol took part in the dem
onstrations. Jimmy Cornell and
Leman Green were in charge of
signalling; Francis McCracker of
knot-tying; Leman Green and Win
throp Sutton of first aid; and Carl
Sutphin and Hobson Bennett of
bridge building.
3,620 Veterans Found
Jobs In Af. C. In 1939
A total of 3,620 veterans were plac
ed in public and private employment
in the state during 1939, the Wil
mington office of the North Carolina
State Employment service reported
NCSES activities for veterans in
cluded: registrations, 2,317; renew
als, 7,654; private placements, 505
regular and 875 temporary; total
placements, private, 1,380 and pub
lic, 3,240.
Swedes File Protest
On Red Ship Bombing
STOCKHOLM. Feb. 10.—(iP)—The
Swedish government announced to
day that its envoy to Moscow had
protested the air bombing of the
Swedish steamer Wirgo, 701 tons,
sent to the bottom off the Aaland
Islands Feb. 5. Eighteen crewmen
Gilbert Patten, who wrote the
“Frank Merriwell” stories of dime
novel days, received six dollars for
his first jwo short stories.
anger. “You’ll see Mr. Donovan
There were tears on Marie’s
cheeks. She pressed her hands to
her forehead. “You don’t under
stand. My father—I can’t . . .”
"Very well. You're fired. Get
(To Be Continued)
124 S. Front St. Phone *47

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