Word: saloon
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...Saloon Expense Account. Reporter Webster seldom took it easy on his beat, telephoned in to rewritemen tips and stories that helped the crusading P-D break scores of exclusives on everything from protection rackets and gambling to a series on corruption on the federal bench that won a Pulitzer Prize. Many of his sources were cultivated after hours in a bar across the street from the Federal Building, where Webster was the only P-D reporter to have a special "saloon expense account." His expense account also included other unorthodox items. Once he bought an overcoat to go to Indianapolis...
...monkey wrench as he lay sleeping. A woman, tied to a chair, was tortured with a carving knife until she died; two stripteasers were sliced to death with razors; four gangsters were shot down in a columnist's living room; a bartender was murdered in his own saloon, and a small boy was killed by a drunken hit & run driver. A few victims survived, including the two teen-agers who were only beaten to a pulp, and the woman in the flimsy nightgown who was mauled by masked intruders in her bedroom, and the engraver who was shot through...
...Norman Chandler, 54-year-old chief of the Chandler clan, thought that was going too far. Whatever the reasons for the falling out, the Chandlers drew first blood last October (TIME, Oct. 19) with a series of articles in their tabloid, the Los Angeles Mirror-denouncing Bonelli and his "saloon empire." Big Bill's board, charged the Mirror, displayed incredible laxity in freely handing out liquor licenses to racketeers and political cronies for only $525 each, and allowing them to be resold at the going rate of $6,500. Bonelli retaliated with a 15-page demand for retraction, hinted...
...needs a fighting newspaper [and] the Mirror is anyone's fist in a good fight." The paper picked its fights carefully, more often to woo new readers than for any lofty civic motives. Mirrormen breezily campaigned against everything from "black-market baby rackets" and Southern California's "Saloon Empire" to ugly female legs...
...Marlon Brando, the wild one of the title, an actor whose sullen face, slurred accents and dream-drugged eye have made him a supreme portrayer of morose juvenility. The motorized wolves burst into the small town of Wrightsville, stack their machines along the curb, and pile into the local saloon to look for some action. They get it, and so does Wrightsville. The audience sits frozen with a growing horror as the abscess of violence swells and swells until the watcher almost cries out for it to burst and be done with. It bursts all right. Before...