Dick Tracy

of the beloved operator
of a shoeshine parlour today...

as horrified customers looked on.
The bootblack would not
give up his receipts...

and paid dearly for his failure
to surrender to gang demands.

A mother of four, unable to pay
a gambling debt, lies dead tonight.

Gangland thugs left her
to expire in a pool of blood...

as they helped themselves
to the contents of a cash register...

inside the luncheonette.
I was talkin' to them,
at the station house, you know, and
it was the darnedest thing I ever saw.

Oh, yeah? Wow.
Five, no help.
King, no help.

- Aces and eights.
- Twenty.

- Ohh.
- Okay, I'm callin'.

Deuce, still possible.
Six, no help.

Got a pair of aces,
a pair of eights.

Okay, the ace bets.
- Hey, Little Face.
- What's the trouble?

Come on, let's go.
Ace bets five.

- I call.
- Six.
- See ya.

What's that?
Ohh. A little kitty.
Hi, little fella.
Let's go.
Ace bets five.

- I'm callin'.
- I'm in.

Six, and a possible straight.
Queen, eight,
pair of eights.

Uh, nine, no help.
- Jack, no help.
- King, no help.

Well, Little Face?