You Play the Black & the Red Comes Up Up by Richard Hallas

dressing-gown, brushing her hair and smiling. Then that got me to worrying over whether her smiling meant that she had me cornered or that it was just an innocent smile meaning she wanted to be pleasant and make up again.
     
    That's the way it was.
     
     
    Chapter Twelve
    SHOOT-THE-SHOOT
     
    I was down on the amusement pier riding on the shoot- the-shoot when the tur ntable motor went off. The turn table is up at the top. The gondolas come up the ramp on an endless chain which puts them on the turntable. Then the bird at the top throws the le ver and the table turns the gon dola round so it points head-first. Then he pulls another lever and the table tilts and slides the gondola down to the water plunge.
     
    When the motor kicked dead, we were on the turntable. The bird started pulling the lever and fussing until the peo ple began to get leery.
     
    A girl started to get out, but the fellow said, "Retain your seats, please. Do not climb from the car."
     
    He said it like he was a talking machine or a kid saying something he'd learned.
     
    Another fellow ran up the ramp, and said the same thing. He said, "Retain your seats, please."
     
    But the girl started to get out. She was scared. Then the man said, "You will descend by the staircase, please. Your money will be refunded at the ticket office."
     
    They are always polite like that in California.
     
    I got out and watched the fellow fiddling with the motor. He was pulling on the lead wires as if they were loose. You could see they were bolted in all right. It was just a simple motor, about twenty-horse.
     
    I said, "Let me get there."
     
    All it was, was dirt on the carbons. I shut off the switch and fixed it in two minutes. Then I threw on the switch.
     
    "There she goes," I said. "Put her in gear."
     
    He slid her in gear and the gondola-table turned. Both the guys looked as pleased as if they'd invented electricity.
     
    "Shoot her down," the boss said.
     
    They sent her down empty.
     
    "Gees, you know motors, feller," the man said.
     
    "No, I'm just sort of handy round machinery," I said.
     
    I stood there and watched the cars coming up. The boss went on down again. I just chinned with the fellow at the top. He had been a gob. His name was A1 Smith—just the same as the fellow who ran for President—you know, the brown derby man. He had been on the battle-wagons—on the Pennsylvania.
     
    We stood there talking all afternoon, gabbing about the service and one thing and another.
     
    It was good up there, way high up. There was just a little sort of cabin at the top and the motor turning. The gondola would come up and he'd throw in the lever and clutch to turn the table, and then throw another lever and clutch to tilt the slides and send it off down the chute.
     
    It was lonesome up there, he said. I guess he liked to have someone to yarn with, especially someone who'd been in the service. I don't think I'd had as good a time since I'd got to California, sitting up there and smelling the oil and the funny sort of ozone smell that an electric motor puts out. I forgot all about worrying over Mamie and
     
    Gottstein getting croaked and whether or not Mamie knew about me being the holdup man.
     
    I hung around there till we had no more cigarettes, not saying too much, but just wisecracking about someone who'd been in a car, or saying, "Did you ever know Johnny Reed who was on the Pennsylvania?" And he'd say, "The lit tle sandheaded guy? Sure—him and me got plenty drunk in Cuba one time. He took his discharge and married a dame in Stamford, Connecticut."
     
    We just yarned on like that until we had no cigarettes left. Then he showed me the steps to get down. He said:
     
    "Drop up here any time, Dempsey."
     
    "Okay, Smitty," I said.
     
    He was the first fellow I felt really at home with in California. I got so's I would go up there afternoons. We'd sit up there, way high up above the ocean, not saying much, just smoking and sitting. Once in a while he