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that ended on a rather wide, oblong platform. At both ends of the platform were wide, curving stairways that curved toward each other and ended on the floor of the dance hall. Opposite, at the other end of the room was a stage; and tables and chairs surrounded the dancing area. Adding to the colorful atmosphere of the place, were waitresses with makeup on their faces. Each wore a dress that started out too late and finished too soon, all of which was very, very daring for the times. After we were seated, Linc Beachy got into a conversation with our waitress. He pulled out a ten dollar bill, then we heard him ask, "How would you like to make ten dollars?"

Then he tore the bill into two and said, j"Here’s half of it. If you do as I ask, you’ll get the other half."

"Who do you want killed" " she answered laughingly [[no punctuation]]

This time they put their heads together. Much whispering ensued punctuated by her giggles.

On our way back to the St. Francis, Linc Beachy, told us all about his secreet plotting. All agreed to absolutele secrecy. He merely ask that our part in the conspiracy was to make sure that we'd make the same rounds the next evening but that to be absolutely sure Glenn Martin came along.

The next evening, as we had forseen, Glenn Martin refused to go along. He was a very straig-laced guy. He didn't drink, smoke or swear.  A real gentleman in every sense of the word. He knew the gentleman's code and lived by its every precept, an outstanding credit to aviation. He was also the direct opposite to the public image of the aviator of the day. Under pressure of the original group, plus five or six other friends, he finally gave in and came along. We made the same trip coming up to the Barbary Coast.   Glenn had a couple of weaknesses, of course, as far as vanity was concerned. One was, naturally, his great and growing reputation as a pilot and plane designed, the other that he was the outstanding sharpshooter in his local National Guar and had received a number of medals for his marksmanship.
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