Black Mask (Vol. 22, No. 2 — Mary 1939)

Dear Jim:

Try and figure a way out! Why do I have to do all the brain work? Right now I know how a hot dog feels, only I’ve got sunburn lotion on instead of mustard. The simplest way out is to notify her father. I suppose I could set the camp on fire and maybe smoke her out, but there’s a hundred other people here besides Priscilla.

I never knew till now how popular a place like this is. Some more people came in last night. Guess who one of them was? Daisy Brittlenet! The redhead you were daffy about. I spotted her when she came in, but she didn’t recognize me without my clothes on. I ducked because I didn’t want her to take a second look. You never can tell when she might run into Mary. That would be all I need to fix things up swell.

A young guy and a fellow who looked like his father came in right after Daisy, so you can see that the camp is doing a rushing business.

I saw Daisy again this morning but she didn’t see me. Boy, I think you were a sucker for giving her up. And I oughta know!

Has Mary written to you? I bet the poor kid is worried stiff about the phony bond story I’ve been telling her. If she ever finds out, well — I hate to think what might happen.

Priscilla is still here. I saw her a few minutes ago talking to the young guy who came in last night. They act like they’ve known each other for a long time. Maybe it’s her Barnacle — Bill. What do I do then if it is? Old Crab-face ought to let love alone and stick to his banking. The way it is now, he’s making four people miserable. Priscilla, Barnacle Bill, Mary and myself. I don’t know about you. You’re probably laughing up your sleeve. Me! I haven’t got a sleeve to laugh up... and couldn’t if I did.

Have you ever been sunburned all over? I put my bed in front of the lockers last night just so Priscilla couldn’t get her clothes and pull a sneak on me, but hell! I couldn’t even stand to have the bed against my back, so I spent part of the night in the creek that runs through the camp, splashing around like a polliwog and cussing Crab-face. The creek was the only way I could get any relief without waking up the camp for some lotion.

I was a sucker for not staying in the shade yesterday, but I was so worried about Mary finding all this out that I didn’t stop to think about the sun.

I’m thinking seriously of packing up and going back to Laguna. Why did you have to stop Rocco Petroni from bumping me? You get all the breaks!

If you haven’t got me out of this mess by tomorrow, I’m walking out. Crab-face or no Crab-face. So get your brain to working in high gear and think of something.

Tired of playing Tarzan,

Les.