By Morse44-09-1637Youll Be Dead In A Week1the Adventure Begins

Adventures by Morse. Cottony Morse presents You'll be dead in a week, featuring Captain Friday. If you like high adventure, come with me. If you like the stealth of intrigue, come with me. If you like blood and thunder, come with me.

Nine o'clock in the evening, somewhere out on the strip to the west of Hollywood. In case you don't know, the strip is a portion of Sunset Boulevard, which runs through and adjacent to some of the more exclusive residential districts between Hollywood and the Pacific Ocean.

In the strip are some of the more expensive shops, salons and eating and drinking places. The strip is not a portion of Los Angeles, Captain Friday, and his operative skip turner would be after patronize.

Certainly not the flossy drinking establishments with soft lights, boudoir furnishings and intimate music. And yes, here they are. Friday in skip-turner, uncomfortably seated on two small chairs before a two small table in a half-lighted corner of Maggie's Intimate Drinking Salon.

Hey, Captain. You've shown up trying to bore me to death. You weren't any more bored than I am. Well, then what are we a stickin' here for? All this plush, and soft lights, and elegance.

Business. We gonna do business in Maggie's Intimate Drinking Saloon? Not Saloon. S-A-L-O-N-S-A-L-N-S-A-L-N Well pardon me while I arch my pinky. I asked you a question, Captain. Did you? Yeah. What kind of business we got here in Maggies, please?

By the way, where's Maggie? I don't know. Well, it says Maggies, Saloon. Saloon. Yeah. All the folks I've seen is a half-check girl arch under, the one waiter under bartender in the next room. And you know, that ain't very many people.