DEAD To RIGHTS (Continued from Page 9) He quickly stuffed the package inside his leather jacket. The dead man's wallet revealed the name of Nicholas Bovero. Nick Bovero! He was at the head of all the rackets and crime in this half of the state. Joe clambered out of the car and picked the girl up from the ground and set her back in the car. Slapping her face, he said, "C'mon, beautiful, wake up, c'mon, wake up." Slowly she opened her big blue peepers. "Where am I? Oh, I know, don't tell me." "Alright," said Joe, "Let's have a few answers outa you. First of all, what's your handle?" She looked at him for a second. "Patricia," she said in despair. "Patricia what?" "Patricia Morris," she yelled. She had been through a hectic experience and didn't feel like answering a lot of questions. "Is this ice hot?" he asked, tapping his jacket. "I don't know a thing," she answered sarcastically. "Now look, let's not play games!" "How would I know whether or not the necklace is hot?" "Then how come you know it's a necklace? How come you know about it?" He felt smart. The girl sat there with her lips tightly compressed. She wouldn't say a word. "Alright, have it your way. Come on, let's go." Joe went around to the other side of the car and lifted that grotesque, lifeless head up from the broken glass and let it drop back into the car. The neck had stopped bleeding now. He walked back around to the other side of the car. The girl looked at him. "What did you mean by 'let's go'? Where are we going?" "To the cops, natcherly." "No," she squealed. Joe brought out the pistol and waved her into the front seat with it. "I don't suppose you have a gun or you probably would have put it to use by now. Right?" Luckily the ditch was not very deep. The back wheels and one front wheel were still on fairly level ground. A few minutes later they were on the highway headed back for town. After several minutes of silence, Patricia Morris looked up. "What's your name, Mister?" You gotta have a name." "Joe," he said. "Joe Brown." "You married?" "Never had the misfortune." "Joe," she said. Her tone of voice had mellowed. "Must we go to the police?" "Yes," he said. "And shut up!" "Okay, Joe. Only I was just thinking, that necklace is worth a nawful lot of money. We could . . ." "No, and shut up," he cut her off. So she retired to her side of the car. "Miss Morris," Joe said. "Yes, Joe?" "Who was in that other car?" "I might as well tell you, now. It was some of Louie Sams' men. He's been trying to muscle in on some of Nick's enterprises. So far he isn't doing bad at it either. I'm surprised that Bovero hasn't been able to stop him. I guess the field's open for him now, even though he didn't get the necklace." "I see," said Joe. "Joe", she touched his arm. It sent tingling sensations up and down his spine. "We could live in luxury for the rest of our lives with what we could get out of that necklace." "Nonsense, it's too well known. Who'd be stupid enough to buy it?" "A friend of mine would cut it up for us. For a price, of course. But with what we had left we would still be set for a long time. Please, Joe!" He looked into her eyes. They were beautiful. All of her was beautiful. "With her and money, too . . ." He wouldn't let himself think about it any more. It was wrong. He felt himself weakening. "It's nuts. We couldn't get the money for weeks yet. That necklace is too hot." "But I have a little money in my bag," she said. "And you must have a little. And Nick's wallet is full of it." Joe knew it was just a trap so she wouldn't have to go to jail, but he felt himself succumbing. "Alright", he said. The cab pulled over to the side of the road. There was some dense underbrush. Nick's body was quickly disposed of. "Now we've got to get rid of this hack. We can't drive this out in public," Joe muttered. "I know where we can get rid of it. A friend of mine who lives not far from where we went off the road . . . he's got a farm; but that's just a front for other activities. We can leave this car there and pick up another. I'm sure he would do it. I did him a favor once." "Okay, Baby, that's good enough for me. With that done, we haven't got much to worry about. No one will tie me up with the missing necklace. How about you?" (Concluded on Page 26) Talents of some students lead to night work. Photo by Monty. Twenty-two (Continued from Page 3) Persons who are thinking of continuing in the music business as a profession should not let Ogden discourage them. Southern California, New York and Florida in the winter months are the places to go if you are seriously considering music. Working as a dance musician can either be a part time job or a full time job. Because of the hours (usually three to four a night), and the time (from around nine in the evening to twelve or one in the mornings), you can still have a full time job or attend school during the day. If, however, one is working more than two or three nights a week at dances, it does make it hard to keep up with his day work and studies. The Musicians' Union regulates the wages. The wage scale is on a local basis, so that one can make more money in different parts of the country. The towns that the musician makes more money in are more expensive to live in. The wage scale for Ogden is small. For a club within the city limits of Ogden the musician receives only $9.00 a night or $3.00 an hour. In a place like Southern California the union scale is $18.00 a night or $6.00 an hour. Several things enter into why there is so much difference in two places. One is the union entrance fee and dues ($150 entrance fee and about $3.50 quarterly dues for Southern California, $35 entrance fee and about $3.50 quarterly dues for Ogden). Another is that more people visit clubs in Southern California than do in Ogden, so that clubs can afford more money for bands. The Musicians' Union is not very hard to join. Usually one is required to play his instrument before a board of directors. This shouldn't be very hard, because one is supposed to know his instrument anyway. If the player does not know his instrument well, I would advise forgetting about the whole thing. The dance music world is full of people that do know their instruments well and are not working. The business is getting to be very competitive, and would not be a wise choice for a profession unless the musician has had several years of learning on his instrument and is willing to keep working to make himself better. It is a good thing to keep in mind that there is always someone better than oneself on the instrument he plays, and that someone might be after his job. Albert C. Hoggan. ICEMAN During the past summer I had the "misfortune" of working for the Pacific Fruit Express Company as an iceman. The summer months are rush months for the P.F.E.; thus as June rolls around the company has an urgent demand for workers. The pay is not bad, $1.60 per hour, time and one-half over forty hours per week. No training is required. Anyone "with a strong back and a weak mind" can qualify, because for the first several weeks of one's employment he is pill to good use in the "Daily." This is the name given to an ungodly, dark, damp storeroom for newly made ice. Pacific Fruit has a shift working at all hours of the day. The day shift is made up mainly of "Old Heads" and other "dead weight." My favorite shift was midnight until eight in the morning. After a working period of ninety days a person is required to join the union, but not being a rah-rah union man and school starting the next week at Utah State, I quit; thus ending a summer of torture. Kidding and puns aside, the "Icehouse" has been a great aid to students, and no doubt will continue so. Duane Kent. SHEEPHERDER The work which I engaged in last summer was for a sheep company. The opportunities are wonderful for those who love the outdoors. It's becoming harder all the time to get herders, because the boys aren't making herding their occupation, and consequently we have to import boys from the old country. The standard wage with a sheep company is $225 per month plus board. The training necessary for the job guarantees that you understand the habits of sheep and the way to handle them. No one who is learning will be given a herd of sheep. His job will be to tend the camp, cook the meals, move the camp when necessary, and help the head man in any way he can. You mustn't be ashamed to get your hands dirty. The working conditions are out of doors, rain, snow or shine. You must put in as much time as necessary, if it's twelve or sixteen hours. It's not like a union job where you work eight hours and you're through. If you don't know the names of the sheepmen who have work, ask the desk clerk at the Miller Hotel or Eagle Clothing Store. They will be glad to help you. Bill Byram. MERCHANT SEAMAN I spent two years sailing on passenger ships and freighters as a merchant seaman. A job such as this will take a person to all parts of the world. At the present time the pay is very good. To start out, a person is able to make from $400 to $600 a month. The first thing a person needs to do is to join the union, which costs $25. There are three unions in the non-officer group. They are unions for stewards, engineers, and deck sailors. If they are accepting new men into the union, your chances of getting in are good if you apply. The main cities on the West Coast where one can join the union are San Francisco, Portland and Seattle. The working conditions are very good. You are supposed to work about eight hours a day. It generally is only about four to six hours that you actually work. All work in addition to the eight hours is time and one-half pay. You also get time and one-half for working on Saturdays and Sundays if the ship is in port. A person works in his specific department. That is, if you are a cook you only cook. You are able to pick your own ship as to where you would like to go. In the Union Building they have a list ol ships on the board and their destinations. It there is a job open that you can qualify for, you submit your card and apply for the job. I found the working conditions good, the pay fine, and the traveling very interesting. Tom Hadley. Twenty-three