anaheim-gazette 1931-11-26

FIFTH INSTALLMENT SYNOPSIS Six people, Horace Johnson (who tells the story), his wife, old Mrs. Dane, Herbert Robinson and his sister, Alice, and Dr. Sperry, friends and neighbors, are in the habit of holding weekly meetings. At one of them, Mrs. Dane, who is hostess, varies the program by unexpectedly arranging a spiritualistic seance with Miss Jeremy, a friend of Dr. Sperry and not a professional, as the medium. At the first sitting the medium tells the details of a murder as it is occurring. Later that night Sperry learns that a neighbor, Arthur Wells, has been shot mysteriously. With Johnson he goes to the Wells residence and they find confirmation of the medium's account. Wells tells them her husband shot himself in a fit of depression. The French maid admits she was out at the time Wells was shot, telephoning from a nearby drug store. Johnson goes to the drug store where the clerk tells him the maid phoned to the Ellingham house, telling somebody there not "to call that night." Johnson goes alone and investigates the deserted house. He is frightened by strange noises, as of an intruder in the house, but completes his investigation. He leaves the house and in his excitement carries off the fire tongs, leaving them in his own hall rack where his wife discovers them the next morning and reproaches him for his nocturnal wandering. He also forgets to bring would do my best to give satisfaction. (Signed) Arthur Hawkins. I put down the application, and took the anonymous letter about the bag from my pocketbood. "Read this, Sperry." I said. "You know the letter Mrs. Dane read it to us Saturday night. But compare the writing." He compared the two, with a slight lifting of his eyebrows. Then he put them down. "Hawkins!" he said. "Hawkins has the letter! And the bag! The question now is to whom was it written?" We pondered that, to no effect. That Hawkins had certain letters which touched on the Wells affair, that they were probably in his possession in the Connell house, was clear enough. But we had no possible authority for trying to get the letters, although Sperry was anxious to make the attempt. "Although I feel," he said, "that it is too late to help her very much. She is innocent; I know that. I think you know that, too, deep in that legal mind of yours. It is wrong to discredit her because I did a foolish thing." He warned to his argument. "Why, think, man," he said. "The whole first sitting was practically coincident with the crime itself." It was true enough. Whatever suspicion might be cast on the second seance, the first at least remained inexplicable, by any laws are recognized In a way, I felt sorry for Sperry. Here exception room, which is not less we are expecting guessed out of the window. The whoever he might be, we negligently up the street. As that was the night's scence, I find that my rite fact that Mrs. Dane cleaning, for which reason been asked to dinner, then and I dined early, at sit that it was seven o'clock called me by telephone, and to accompany him to the to see if we could find the coat. He slipped an arm thru when I joined him, and down the street. "I'm got the bottom of this, Horace he said. "Remember, we're pledging chic investigation only." "Rats!" he said rudely going to find out who killed Wells, and if he deserves hang him." "Or her?" "It wasn't Elinor Wells positively, 'Here's the poor been afraid to go back for coat it's still there.' I do that, however. But the curtain interests me reading over my copy of the sittings. It was said ber, that curtains—some..." Johnson goes alone and investigates the deserted house. He is frightened by strange noises, as of an intruder in the house, but completes his investigation. He leaves the house and in his excitement carries off the fire tongs, leaving them in his own hall rack where his wife discovers them the next morning and reproaches him for his nocturnal wandering. He also forgets to bring away his overcoat, which is carried off by the mysterious stranger. Mrs. Dale learns of his peculiar actions and charges him with possessing an unsuspected sense of humor. He visits Mrs. Dane and tells her how he had carried off the fire-tongs and left behind his overcoat in his excitement. She then tells him she had advertised for the rinder of the pocket-book and turns over to Johnson an answer she had received from one having guilty knowledge of the crime. Dr. Sperry announces he is to be married to Miss Jeremy when the club meets again. Now Go On With The Story Sperry turned to me when he had gone out. "That was Hawkins, Horace," he said. "You remember, don't you? The Wells' butler." "I know him at once." "He wrote to me asking for a position, and I got him this. Looks sick, poor devil. I intend to have a go at his chest." "How long has he been here?" "More than a week. I think." As I drank my tea, I pondered. After all, the Neighborhood Club must guard against the possibility of fraud, and I felt that Sperry had been indiscreet, to say the least. From the time of Hawkins' service in Miss Jeremy's home there would always be the suspicion of collusion between them. I did not believe it was so, but Herbert, for instance, would be inclined to suspect her. Suppose that Hawkins knew about the crime? Or knew something and surmised the rest? I was uncasy all the way home. The element of doubt always so imminent in our dealings with psychic phenomena, had me by the throat. How much did Hawkins know? Was there any way, without going to the police, to find if he had really been out of the Wells house that night, now almost two weeks ago, when Arthur Wells had been killed? That evening I went to Sperry's house, after telephoning that I was coming. On the way I stopped in at Mrs. Dane's and secured something from her. She was very curious, and made me promise to go on in my way back, and explain. I made a compromise. "I will come in if I have anything to tell you." I said. Sperry was waiting for me in his he was, on the first day of his engagement, protesting her honesty, her complete ignorance of the revelation she had made and his intention to keep her in ignorance, and yet betraying his own anxiety and possible doubt in the same breath. "She did not even know there was a family named Wells. When I said that Hawkins had been employed by the Wells, it meant nothing to her. I was watching." So even Sperry was watching. He was in love with her, but his scientific mind, like my legal one, was slow to accept what during the past two weeks it had been asked to accept. I left him at ten o'clock. Mrs. Dane was still at her window, and her far-sighted old eyes caught me as I tried to steal past. She rapped on the window, and I was obliged to go in. Obliged, too, to tell her of the discovery and, at last, of Hawkins being in the Connell house. "I want those letters, Horace," she said at last. "So do I. I'm not going to steal them." "The question is, where has he got them?" "The question is, dear lady, that they are not ours to take." "They are not his, either." Well, that was true enough. But I had done all the private investigating I cared. And I told her so. She only smiled cryptically. The following day was Monday. When I came downstairs I found a neat bundle would have been better placed the letters than the bag." I stopped suddenly. "By JI said. "I remember now. The sittings were in my own eyes." "They are gone." He whistled softly. "That nate," he said. "Then the whoever he is, knows what." "Just where does Hawk Sperry?" I asked. "I'm damned if I know flected." "We may learn to The Wells house was dblidding, but I led the way parative familiarity." "In case the door is loa a few skeleton keys," she said. We had reached the end row passage, and emerged square of brick and grass behind the house. While the clear, the place lay in darkness. Sperry stumbled thing, and muttered to him. The rear porch lay in We went up the steps to Sperry stopped, and I adv doorway. It was locked. The lock gave way to at last, and the door swung came to us the heavy closed houses, a combinable cooked food, and floor wax. "Now, friend Horace," you have matches, we woke the overcoat, and then we stairs." As we had anticipated, police, to find if he had really been out of the Wells house that night, now almost two weeks ago, when Arthur Wells had been killed? That evening I went to Sperry's house, after telephoning that I was coming. On the way I stopped in at Mrs. Dane's and secured something from her. She was very curious, and made me promise to go on my way back, and explain. I made a compromise. "I will come in if I have anything to tell you," I said. Sperry was waiting for me in his library, standing by the fire, with the grave face, and slightly bent head of his professional manner. "I wonder," I said, "if you kept the letter Hawkins wrote you when he asked for a position." He was not sure. He went into his consulting room and was gone for some time. I took the opportunity to glance over his books and over the room. Arthur Well's stick was standing in a corner, and I took it up and examined it. It was an English malacca, light and strong and had seen service. It was long, too long for me; it occurred to me that Wells had been about my height, and that it was odd that he should have carried so long a stick. There was no ease in swinging it. From that to the memory of Hawkin's face when Sperry took it, the night of the murder, in the hall of the Wells house, was only a step. I seemed that day to be thinking considerably about Hawkins. When Sperry returned I had the stick on the table. There can be no doubt that I did so, for I had to move a book-rack to place it. One end, the handle, was near the ink-well, and the ferrule lay on a copy of Gibson's "Life Beyond the Grave," which Sperry had evidently been reading. Sperry had found the letter. As I glanced at it I recognized the writing at once, thin and rather sexless, Spencerian. Dear Sir: Since Mr. Well's death I am out of employment. Before I took the position of butler with Mr. Wells I was valet to Mr. Ellingham, and before that, in England, to Lord Condray. I have a very good letter of recommendation from Lord Condray. If you need a servant at this time I "I want those letters, Horace," she said at last. "So do I. I'm not going to steal them." "The question is, where has he got them?" "The question is, dear lady, that they are not ours to take." "They are not his, either." Well, that was true enough. But I had done all the private investigating I cared. And I told her so. She only smiled cryptically. The following day was Monday. When I came downstairs I found a neat bundle lying in the hall, and addressed to me. My wife had followed me down, and we surveyed it together. It was my overcoat! My overcoat apparently uninjured, but with the collection of keys I had made missing. The address was printed, not written, in a large, strong hand, with a stub pen. I did not, at the time, notice the loss of certain papers which had been in the breast pocket. I am rather absent-minded, and it was not until the night after the third sitting that they were recalled to my mind. At something after eleven Herbert Robinson called me up at my office. He was at Sperry's house, Sperry having been his physician during his recent illness. "I say, Horace, this is Herbert." "Yes. How are you?" "Doing well, Sperry says. I'm at his place now. I'm speaking for him. He's got a patient." "Yes?" "Yes." "You were here last night, he says. Do you happen to have noticed a walking-stick in the library when you were here?" "Yes. I saw it." "You didn't, by any chance, take it home with you?" "No." "Are you sure?" "Certainly I'm sure." "Suppose we'll see you tonight?" "Not unless you ring off and let me do some work," I said irritably. He rang off. I was ruffled, I admit; but I was uneasy also. It was that day that I discovered that I was being watched. I did not tell my wife that evening. After dinner I went into our re- thing, and muttered to him. The rear porch lay in at last, and the door swung came to us the heavy closed houses, a combination cooked food, and floor wax. "Now, friend Horace," you have matches, we wipe the overcoat, and then wail stairs." As we had anticipated, overcoat in the library, an ening a moment at the upper floor. He had now in perfect order, and my candle to the ceiling that the bullet hole had paired, and this time wilt that I could not even lock. "We are up against sorcerer than we are, Sperry, edged." And who has more to have to gain? he added "Don't worry about that. He a married man and I'm man wanted to hide some her husband, and chose a receptacle, what room wilt them in. Not in his dressing." He took the candle and to Ellor Well's bedroom ever, the draperies were or would have been at a location remembered my wife's cuiting draperies when we cleaned and placing them under sheets which cover the wall. (To be Continued) The old fashioned Americain to make the eagle scream has a son who went to colled to advocate the theory Sam's giving away everyto "save the world." Reception room, which is not lighted unless we are expecting guests, and peered out of the window. The detective, or whoever he might be, was walking negligently up the street. As that was the night of the thirdance, I find that my record covers the fact that Mrs. Dane was house-leaning, for which reason we had not been asked to dinner, that my wife and I dined early, at six-thirty, and that it was seven o'clock when Sperry called me by telephone, and asked me accompany him to the Well's house if we could find the other over-oat. He slipped an arm through mine when I joined him, and we started down the street. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this, Horace, old dear," he said. "Remember, we're pledged to a psychic investigation only." "Rats!" he said rudely. "We are going to find out who killed Arthur Wells, and if he deserves hanging we'll hang him." "Or her?" "It wasn't Ellinor Wells," he said positively. "Here's the point: if he's been afraid to go back for his over-that it's still there. I don't expect that, however. But the thing about the curtain interests me. I've been reading over my copy of the notes on the sittings. It was said, you remember, that curtains—some curtains— RUBBER— Mr. Edison died just a few days too soon to learn that the goal of the last great scientific quest in which he was engaged had been reached by somebody else. This was the search for a new source of rubber. Mr. Edison sought it in plants. The new synthetic rubber is a product of the great chemical research laboratories of E. I. Du Pont De Nemours & Company, who have already begun to build a factory for its commercial manufacture. Instead of being made from a vegetable source the raw materials out of which this artificial rubber is made are coal, limestone, salt and water. It is not yet certain that this new rubber will answer every purpose for which rubber is now used, but for many of such uses it is said to be superior to the natural product. At any rate, it gives the United States an independent source of rubber, from which we can never be cut off again in time of war as we were a few years ago, and the supply of the necessary raw materials is literally unlimited. BEAVERS— The most interesting thing that has happened in my part of the country in years is the return of the beavers to the Berkshire valley near my farm. It is pretty nearly a hundred years since the last of the beavers vanished with the last of the Indians from Massachusetts, but a few days ago some of my neighbors, observing that there On the Sidewalks of New York By OBSERVER (Corrrespondence to The Gazette) THE PRIZE EXHIBIT— New York has three Zoos, the most famous being the Bronz which is famous all over the world. The Central Park Zoo is the oldest and is even smaller than the Prospect Park one in Brooklyn. The one in Central Park draws many thousands of visitors, even with its small collection of wild animals. The hippo and giraffe are really about the only valuable animals in that Zoo. The exhibit which draws the most visitors and is hard to get near on Sundays is one that is nothing less than an ordinary farmyard, rather smaller than usual for the number of denizens it contains. Inside the fence are a mule, cow, goat, donkey, turkey a few hens, geese, ducks and so on. And the public, most of them forgeigners, stand and stare and dream, unless there are children along, in which case there is an outpouring of all varieties of languages. NEW YORK SIGNS— In certain neighborhoods certain languages take precedence over the English language, both in street conversations and in signs. The Williamsburg Bridge that connects lower East Side with Brooklyn, has some signs entirely in Jewish. Others carry Italian and English. This same condition obtains in the southern portion of Central Park. On the north end, where the population is mostly black, straight English is used. Up in the Bronx there are quite a few places where German is used alongside of English. In other parts of town one can see signs in Arabic, Greek, and one eating place bears a sign in the Hindustan language, one of the oldest in the world. Nearly all should have been better places to hide the letters than the bag." "I stopped suddenly." "By Jove, Sperry," said. "I remember now. My notes of the sittings were in my overcoat." "And they are gone?" "They are gone." He whistled softly. "That's unfortunate," he said. "Then the other person, whoever he is, knows what we know!" "Just where does Hawkins come in, perry?" I asked. "I'm damned if I know," he rejected. "We may learn tonight." The Wells house was dark and forliding, but I led the way with comparative familiarity. "In case the door is locked, I have few skeleton keys," said Sperry. We had reached the end of the narrow passage, and emerged into the square of brick and grass that lay behind the house. While the night was near, the place lay in comparative darkness. Sperry stumbled over something, and muttered to himself. The rear porch lay in deep shadow. We went up the steps together. Then Sperry stopped, and I advanced to the porway. It was locked. The lock gave way to manipulation at last, and the door swung open. There came to us the heavy odor of all closed houses, a combination of carpets, cooked food, and floor wax. "Now, friend Horace," he said, "if you have matches, we will look for the overcoat, and then we will go upstairs." As we had anticipated, there was no BEAVERS— The most interesting thing that has happened in my part of the country in years is the return of the beavers to the Berkshire valley near my farm. It is pretty nearly a hundred years since the last of the beavers vanished with the last of the Indians from Massachusetts, but a few days ago some of my neighbors, observing that there seemed to be more water than usual in a swampy pond just north of West Stockbridge village, investigated and discovered that a family of beavers had built a dam across the little stream and were busily engaged in finishing up their winter home. This is a dome-shaped structure of logs and mud, with its entrance under water to protect its inhabitants from foxes, wolves and other enemies. Beavers have never been known to travel over land and how these got into the West Stockbridge swamp is a mystery. Unless they multiply and become a pest, these new generations of beavers will have an easier life than did their ancestors. For two hundred years after the settlement of America by the English, beaver skins were the main staple of commerce between the northern colonies and the old country. Literally millions of beavers were slaughtered for their fur, the principal use of which was to make men's hats. Beaver fur is still regarded by hatters as the finest possible material for felt hats, but there is very little of it on the market, and the game laws of New England today impose heavy penalties on anyone killing the beaver. BUILDING— The biggest problem that confronts President Hoover's conference on home building, which will begin its session in Washington shortly, is the problem of finding a substitute for the present system of second mortgage financing. Half the families in the United States own their homes, but most of them have paid much more than they should have paid, because of the high cost of second mortgage money. If the President's conference can work out a nationally acceptable plan under which the young man who has saved up a thousand dollars can buy a home without having to pay exorbitant premiums and interest on the balance, it will go a long way toward stimulating the building industry and all of the other industries that depend on it. FLYING— Twenty-five years ago only half a dozen people, friends of the Wright Brothers, had ever seen an airplane in flight. Practically nobody else believed it would ever be possible to fly a heavier than air machine. In that year, 1906, Side with Brooklyn, has some signs entirely in Jewish. Others carry Italian and English. This same condition obtains in the southern portion of Central Park. On the north end, where the population is mostly black, straight English is used. Up in the Bronx there are quite a few places where German is used alongside of English. In other parts of town one can see signs in Arabic, Greek, and one eating place bears a sign in the Hindustan language, one of the oldest in the world. Nearly all of these foreign places are eating places. The Russians have dozens of cafes, all bearing signs in their funny looking language. LINGUAL SHOCK— Away down town the other day we were strolling through the Persian district. Several small boys were playing ball in the narrow street and using typical tough New Yorkers to express themselves. One of them had just yapped at another: "Gee, chase yourself. We're gonna play ball," when a third story window opened and a pretty Assyrian woman looked out and saw the boy. He was wanted apparently, as a musical stream of language issued from the woman's mouth and the little boy looked up, grunted just like any other American boy and yelled up at her. "Oh, alright. I'll come up," and the window closed softly. SYRIAN SHOPS— Within a cats jump of Wall street there are lots of Syrians shops devoted to lingerie. For many centuries the women of the near East have been noted for their needlework and these shops carry a certain amount of such importations. But the mainstay for most of them are "importations" from New York sweat shops and look like very ordinary stuff. Even the prices are just about what one would pay in any shop in the land. The district is one of the few disappointing ones in the whole city to us. That is, except for the wonderful bakeries the Syrians operate along The rear porch lay in deep shadow. We went up the steps together. Then perry stopped, and I advanced to the doorway. It was locked. The lock gave way to manipulation at last, and the door swung open. There came to us the heavy odor of all closed houses, a combination of carpets, cooked food, and floor wax. "Now, friend Horace," he said, "if you have matches, we will look for one overcoat, and then we will go upstairs." As we had anticipated, there was no overcoat in the library, and after listening a moment at the kitchen door, we ascended a rear staircase to the dressing room, and had left them upper floor. I had, it will be remembered, fallen from a chair on a table thus overturned when I charged the third floor. The room, however, was now in perfect order, and when I held my candle to the ceiling, I perceived that the bullet hole had again been reclaimed, and this time with such skill that I could not even locate it. "We are up against some one cleverer than we are, Sperry," I acknowledged. "And who has more to lose than we have to gain," he added cheerfully. Don't worry about that, Horace. You're a married man and I'm not. If a woman wanted to hide some letters from her husband, and chose a curtain for a receptacle, what room would she hide them in. Not in his dressing-room, eh? He took the candle and led the way to Ellinor Well's bedroom. Here, however, the draperies were down, and we would have been at a loss, had I not remembered my wife's custom of folding draperies when we close the house, and placing them under the dusting sheets which cover the various beds. (To be Continued.) The old fashioned American who used to make the eagle scream on July 4 now is a son who went to college and learned to advocate the theory of Uncle Sam's giving away everything he owns to "save the world." Well, if John Bull joins the protectionists nations, where are the free traders going to go and be able to feel at home? Twenty-five years ago only half a dozen people, friends of the Wright Brothers, had ever seen an airplane in flight. Practically nobody else believed it would ever be possible to fly a heavier than air machine. In that year, 1906 everybody was enthusiastic about lighter-than-air craft. The balloon with a motor propeller, what we now call a dirigible, was the thing, but nobody dreamed of anything approaching the United States Navy's new airship, Akron, which took 203 people on a ten hour voyage the other day. In the last few years there have been wonderful improvements in airplanes. It is probable that every plane flying today will be out of date inside of ten years and that the plane of the future will look and act entirely different from anything we are familiar with now. GARAGES— This is the time of year when many automobile owners commit unintentional suicide by starting up their cars in tightly closed garages and not getting outside as soon as the engine fires. In the past twelve months the New York State Department of Health reports forty-two deaths from carbon monoxide poisoning in closed garages and forty-three narrow escapes from death from the same cause. It is seldom safe to let a car run at any season of the year without backing out of the garage as soon as the engine starts. Some of the deaths reported occurred because the wind blew the exhaust gases back into the garage although the doors were wide open. Carbon monoxide poisoning comes without warning, as the gas is entirely odorless. It costs nothing to be careful. Oxford and Harvard are to debate by radio across the Atlantic. They ought to be fully as exciting as one of those trans-Atlantic chess tournaments. Washington street, just around the corner from the underwear shops. NEW YORK'S MEDICAL CENTER Some years ago Edward Harkness left ten million dollars to found a medical center here and several blocks were bought uptown and $4,000,000 spent for building and another for fittings. The rest of the money is out on interest and grew so fast it worried the trustees. Recently they decided to spend the money on another medical center and they will probably "go back," as they want to do, in putting it up. Both the wealthy and the poor are treated at these centers, attracted by the wonderful skill of the experts on the staffs. They are doing a vast amount of good in preventing disease and curing patients. GREAT BUS TERMINAL A few years ago a small theater on the edge of the Times Square district found itself unable to draw. The owner closed it down and put it on the market. Because it was so handy to many hotels, the different bus companies clubbed together and turned it into a terminal. Its big waiting room, with ticket offices at one side and a huge information desk in the center, rivals many of the big railroad stations of the country in size and convenience. One thing noticeable about it is that the crowds are much smaller than in the usual railroad depots, the reason being that instead of busses leaving for some other city three or four times a day, service is almost hourly and there is none of that bunching as at railroad offices. When the theater was turned into a waiting room, nothing was taken out but the seats on the main floor. The balcony and gallery still exist and look down upon the proscenium arch which marks the site of the old stage. KELVINATOR $205.00 and up. $10.00 down. FEARN, 278 E. Center St., Anaheim Easy Parking Phone 311 When the theater was turned into a waiting room, nothing was taken out but the seats on the main floor. The balcony and gallery still exist and look down upon the proscenium arch which marks the site of the old stage. KELVINATOR— $905.00 and up. $10.00 down. FEARN, 278 E. Center St., Anaheim Easy Parking Phone 311 A. B. C. BUSINESS DIRECTORY For Quick Reference Look Under Alphabetical Classification of the Business or Profession You Are Seeking. You'll Find This Anaheim Gazette-Business Directory Reliable, Convenient and Profitable. USE IT. BIG AUCTION Every Saturday at 2 and 7:30 p.m. at Jack Martin's Auction House, 137 S. Lemon, Phone 3220. Private sales all the time For Cash or Easy Terms. Buy Anything—Sell Anything. "The Bargain Spot of Orange Co." Jack Martin, Prop. IRISH AUCTIONEER Optometrists Dr. Loerch Jr.. 222 N. Broadway, Santa Ana 2686 Paint Business Fullerton Paint & Paper Co. 212 N. Spadra, Fullerton 477 Photographers Betzsoid Studio 110 E. Center, Phone 3418 Physicians & Surgeons Automobile Wrecking Curran Auto Wrecking Co. L. A. at Palm, Anaheim 3101 Battery Business M. D. Hushman, Willard Batteries, 419 W Center St., Anaheim 3503 Chiropractors The Pintlers, Chiropractors 108 E. Broadway, Anahelm, Ph. 3418 Funeral Directors Ambulance Service—Day or Night Phone 8209 Backs, Terry & Campbell FUNERAL DIRECTORS H. P. CAMPRELL, Resident Director 251 No. Lemon St., Anaheim, Calif. Office Phone 3213 Residence 887 S. Los Angeles St. Residence Phone 2610 Hours: 11-12; 2-4; 7-8 J. W. Truxaw, M. D. Physician and Surgeon Golden State Bank Bldg. Cor. Center and Los Angeles Sta. Anaheim, California DeLuxe Ambulance Service Telephone 4105 HILGENFELD'S FUNERAL HOME Sash and Doors Nagel-Gohres & Co. 418 S. Lemon St., Anaheim 2408 Resident Director 251 No. Lemon St., Anaheim, Calif. DeLuxe Ambulance Service Telephone 4105 HILGENFELD'S FUNERAL HOME South Lemon at Broadway Anaheim, California Funiture—Used J. P. Glenn 121 W. Wilshire, Fullerton 51 Hospitals Johnston-Wickett Clinic ANAHEIM, CALIF. Hours: 8:00 A.M. to 5:00 P.M. ANAHEIM FEED AND FUEL CO. Dealers in GRAIN FLOUR SEEDS WOOD COAL HAY Phone 3210 W. D. GRAFTON, Prp. 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