The Supergirl of Smallville

Chapter 18

by Team Acenaut

 

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Downloaded from the SuperWomenMania.com StoryBank

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AUGUST ...

 

Professor Lang's resonant baritone filled the theater:

 

"A glooming peace this morning with it brings;

The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head:

Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;

    Some shall be pardon'd; and some punish-ed ... "

 

Sitting in the audience, Lana brushed a tear from her eye.

 

"For never was a story of more woe

Than this of Juliet and her Romeo."

 

The curtain fell.  Lana jumped up, clapping enthusiastically.  The entire audience was on its feet in a standing ovation, their applause echoing from the rafters of the old grange hall.

 

The actors were coming on stage for their curtain call -- extras and walk-ons first, then Professor Lang, resplendent as the Prince of Verona.  "Yay, Daddy!" Lana shouted.  She stuck her fingers in her mouth and added a loud, piercing whistle to the general applause.

 

Standing beside her daughter, Mrs. Lang frowned.  "Really, Lana," she murmured reprovingly.  "That's not very lady-like."

 

Lana looked up sheepishly.  "Sorry, Mom."

 

The other actors were trotting onto the stage -- Juliet's nurse and Friar Lawrence, Benvolio and Mercutio, Montague and Capulet ...  The applause swelled as Romeo strode onstage, then exploded in a wild crescendo as Juliet, exquisitely pretty in a gown of lavender and gold, stepped forward and curtsied, smiling and blushing.

 

"Suzy was great, wasn't she?" said Lana.

 

"She certainly was," said Mrs. Lang.  "And I can't imagine a prettier Juliet."

 

At last the applause died down and people began making their way toward the exit and out into the warm August night. 

 

Lana turned to her mother.  "I want to say hi to Daddy -- and Suzy."

 

Mrs. Lang nodded.  "All right.  I just saw Mrs. Putnam leaving.  I need to talk with her about the rummage sale next week.  You know where the car is parked."

 

Nodding, Lana hurried off toward the stairs leading to the basement.

 

Professor Lang was striding along the narrow corridor between the dressing rooms, mopping his forehead with a large handkerchief.  He beamed as Lana rushed up and gave him a hug.

 

"You were wonderful, Daddy.  You should have been an actor."

 

"Thanks, Pumpkin.  It's been fun, but I'm glad this is the last night.  It's back to the humdrum life of a college professor for me.  Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to get out of this costume before I melt!"

 

"Okay, Daddy.  I'll see you later."  Brushing past actors and stagehands, Lana made her way to the ladies' dressing room.  She opened the door and peeked inside.  Suzy was standing in front of a tall mirror, removing her eye-shadow with a tissue.

 

"Suzy!"

 

Suzy turned around.  "Lana!" she squealed.  She ran over and threw her arms around her friend.

 

"Thanks for coming.  This is what, your third time?"

 

"I wouldn't have missed it for anything.  You were great.  I was crying all through the final scene."

 

"Thanks.  Wow!  I can't believe it's over.  I guess it's just as well.  School starts in a couple of weeks, and cheerleading practice has already begun.  Hey, let's get together sometime this week."

 

"I'd like that.  Oh, I saw Clark in the audience tonight."  She giggled.  "I think he actually stayed awake through the whole play this time."

 

Suzy rolled her eyes.  "Shakespeare isn't exactly Clark's cup of tea.  It was nice of him to come."  She laid a hand on Lana's arm.  "I know Clark can be ... thoughtless sometimes, but he's really a sweet guy.  I'm glad you're not mad at him."

 

Lana waved a hand dismissively.  "Bygones."  A few days after the incident in the cafeteria last March, Clark had come up to her in the hallway between classes and mumbled an apology.  Lana was sure that Suzy had made him do it, but she had accepted the gesture for her friend's sake.

 

"Listen, I've got to go," said Lana.  "I'll give you a call tomorrow."

 

"Okey-doke."  Suzy turned back to the mirror and began smearing cold cream on her cheeks.

 

Out in the corridor, Lana nearly bumped into Clark.  "Oh -- hi, Lana," he said awkwardly.  "Is Suzy in there?"

 

"Yes, she is.  Shall I ask her to step outside?"

 

"Would you?  Thanks."

 

Lana laid her hand on the doorknob, then paused.  "Didn't you bring her anything?"

 

"Um ... no ... "

 

Lana sighed.  "Wait right here," she said.  "Don't move.  I'll be right back."  She turned and trotted down the corridor.  Rounding the corner, she put on a burst of super-speed as she ran up the deserted stairway and out the side door of the grange hall.

 

The Crawfordsville Community Theater stood in an open field on the outskirts of town.  Most of the audience had gone by now, but a few stragglers were getting into their cars and driving off.  The Langs' Studebaker was parked close to the side of the building.  Lana opened the rear door and took out a long, narrow box tied with a red ribbon and a fancy bow.

 

Lana stood gazing at the box for a moment.  It contained a rose that she'd bought in a flower shop in Crawfordsville earlier that evening, as she and her mother were driving in to see the play.  She'd been planning to give it to her father later, after he got home.  Mrs. Lang had baked gingerbread -- Daddy's favorite.  But now --

 

Lana sighed.  I'm sure Daddy will understand, she thought.  After all, this is an emergency ...

 

Moments later, she was back in the corridor outside the dressing room.  "Here," she said, handing Clark the box.  "Give this to Suzy when she comes out.  It's a rose.  Wait, here's a card.  Do you have a pen?  Well, you can use mine.  Write this down.  To the sweetest flower of all the field."

 

"Huh?"  Clark stared at her blankly.

 

"It's from the play.  Romeo and Juliet."

 

"Oh.  Say it again."

 

Clark wrote down the words as Lana repeated them slowly.

 

"Thanks, Lana," he grinned, handing the pen back to her.  "You girls really go for this mushy stuff, don't you?"

 

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

Suzy raised her arms and slid into her red and white cheerleading sweater.  She looked at the clock on the bedside table as she ran a brush through her shiny blonde hair.  Lizzy Snyder would be picking her up in a few minutes on her way to practice. 

 

Glancing out her bedroom window, Suzy saw the mailman pulling up by the mailbox across the road.  She hurried down the stairs and out the front door.  Carefully looking both ways, she trotted across the road and pulled down the front flap of the mailbox.

 

There wasn't much -- a few bills, a brochure from an appliance store in Crawfordsville, and a postcard for Suzy.  It was from her Aunt Millie, who was visiting Metropolis with her husband.  On one side of the card was a color photograph of the city's theater district by night.  Suzy gazed wistfully at the colorful lights and bright marquees.  She turned the card over and began reading the message as she turned back toward the house.

 

Dear Suzy:  Your uncle and I are having a wonderful

time in Metropolis.  Last night we went to a theater to

see "Our Town."  The girl who played Emily reminded

me of you -- very pretty and a very good actress.  Who

knows?  --Maybe someday you'll be on stage in a big-

city theater!                                  Love, Aunt Millie

 

Absorbed in the postcard, Suzy didn't realize that she'd started to cross the road -- not until the blare of a horn and the squeal of tires suddenly woke her from her reverie ...

 

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Louie Brenner was pushing the speed limit as he came to the outskirts of Smallville.  He was running late for a meeting with Tony and some of the union bosses in Shelbyville, but he didn't dare to drive any faster -- not in Supergirl's home town.  He glanced nervously up at the sky.  There was no sign of her, but he'd heard plenty of stories about how she could show up out of nowhere at super-speed ...

 

Louie frowned.  He wondered why Supergirl hung around a no-count burg like Smallville.  A lot of people figured she lived here, incognito, as an ordinary teen-age girl.  But how could she keep her identity a secret in a little hick town where everybody knew each other's business?  It didn't add up.  Still, there must be some connection ...

 

Coming round a curve, Louie suddenly swore.  A girl was crossing the road directly in front of him.  He pressed his hand against the horn, he slammed on the brake.  The girl turned toward him, eyes wide with alarm.  Louie winced and braced himself.  There was no way the car could stop in time.  Involuntarily, he averted his eyes.  He jerked forward as the car jolted to a stop ...

 

----------

 

The horn stopped blaring, the tires stopped squealing.  Suzy stood blinking in the silence of the summer afternoon.  The pieces of mail lay scattered on the road.  The car -- a shiny black coupe -- had stopped, just a couple of feet from where she stood.  Dazed, Suzy stooped to pick up the mail as a man in a plaid sports jacket and fedora hat scrambled out of the car and strode toward her.

 

"Hey!" he shouted angrily.  "Why don't you watch where you're going?  You could have been killed!"

 

"I'm sorry," Suzy said meekly.

 

Louie's anger softened as he looked at the pretty teenager who stood blinking up at him. Her lower lip was quivering, and her large blue eyes were glistening with tears.

 

"It's okay, miss," he said.  "You just scared me, that's all.  Didn't your folks ever tell you to look both ways before you cross a street?"

 

The girl nodded.  "Oh, yes.  I -- I was reading a postcard from my aunt, and I just wasn't thinking ..."

 

Louie let out a long breath.  "Well, thank goodness my car stopped in time.  Is that your house?  Let's go inside and tell your folks what happened."

 

"They're not home," Suzy said hastily.  "My dad's at his office in Crawfordsville, and my mom's out doing some errands.  Oh, please don't tell them about this."  She blinked away the tears that were welling in her eyes. 

 

"Well -- are you sure you're okay?"  Once again, Louie glanced up at the sky, half expecting to see Supergirl swooping down.  The sooner he was on his way, the better ...

 

"Oh, yes, I'm fine."  Suzy nodded vigorously.  "I'm really really sorry."

 

Louie nodded.  "Okay, miss.  If you're sure you're all right.  Just be careful from now on, okay?"

 

Suzy smiled.  "Oh, I will!  Thanks!"  Louie stood watching as she hurried across the road and ran up the front steps of her house.

 

Louie turned, anxious to get back in his car and be on his way.  But he stopped short as his eyes fell on the grille and fender of his coupe.  He pushed his fedora back and stood scratching his head for several moments.  Then he walked over to the mailbox.  Taking a small notebook from the pocket of his jacket, he copied down the name -- PRENTISS.  He shut the book, got back in his car, and drove off toward Shelbyville.

 

He drove at a leisurely speed.  He had a lot to think about.  Tony might be mad at him for being late for the meeting -- but wait till he heard about this!

 

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

Tony D'Amato folded his hands over his chest and leaned back in his swivel chair, regarding Louie with heavy-lidded eyes.

 

"So, Louie," he said.  "You say you have some information that may be of interest to me?"

 

"That's right," said Louie.  He placed the palms of his hands on Tony's desk and leaned forward confidentially.  "I know who Supergirl is."

 

"Indeed."  Tony scowled.  He regretted that he'd ever offered a reward for information about Supergirl.  If he had a nickel for every joker who'd tried to sell him some worthless piece of dope or some crazy theory ...

 

Tony sighed.  Supergirl hadn't bothered him since that day she trashed the Diamond Bar, but he was tired of constantly looking over his shoulder every time he did business.  He thought he might be developing an ulcer.  If only he could cash in his assets, get out of Shelbyville, relocate somewhere else -- Detroit, maybe, or Gary or even Chicago ... 

 

"I'm a busy man," he said sourly.  "Don't waste my time, Louie.  This information of yours better be good."

 

"Oh, it's good all right.  C'mon, Tony.  This is me you're talking to."

 

"Just spill it."  Tony leaned back and closed his eyes.

 

"Okay.  Remember how I was a little late for our meeting the other day?  Well, here's what happened.  I was driving through Smallville on my way from Crawfordsville.  I was in a hurry, so I was kind of pushing the speed limit -- not going over it, on account of ... you know ... "

 

Tony nodded.  He gestured impatiently with one hand.

 

"Anyway, about a mile from the center of town, I hit a girl who was crossing the road."

 

Tony opened one eye.

 

"It wasn't my fault," Louie explained hastily.  "She stepped into the road without looking.  I slammed on my brakes, but it was too late.  The car rammed right into her.  But get this -- it didn't even knock her down.  She just stood there -- "

 

Tony grunted.  "Sounds to me like your car stopped just in time.  Lucky for her."

 

"That's what I thought, at first.  But then I took a look at the front of the car.  It was all dented and crumpled, like it hit a telephone pole or something.  And I know it wasn't that way when I left Crawfordsville.  The car's parked right in front -- I can show you."

 

"Later," said Tony.  "Go on."  His eyes were open now.

 

"The girl was wearing a red cheerleading uniform with an 'S' in front."  Louie tapped his forehead.  "So I thought to myself, I bet she's a cheerleader for Smallville High -- "

 

"Very astute of you," Tony murmured. 

 

"Thanks.  So yesterday I went back to Smallville.  The football team was practicing, getting ready for the big scrimmage against Martindale, but I was checking out the cheerleaders -- "

 

"And?"

 

"It's her, all right.  She's a blonde, but except for that she's a dead ringer for the girl that busted in here last year.  A real doll.  Same height, same -- "  He held his hands out in front of his chest.  "And you should see some of her cheerleading moves.  I swear, this girl can defy gravity -- "

 

"Does she have a name?"

 

"Suzy Prentiss.  She's a junior at Smallville High.  Her father's a dentist.  No brothers or sisters.  And get this -- her boy-friend is Clark Kent."

 

Tony rubbed his chin.  "You don't say.  Joe Petersen's new runner, huh?"  He chuckled softly.  "I wonder if Miss Super Goody-Two-Shoes is aware that her boy-friend is running numbers for Shelbyville's biggest bookmaker."

 

He sat thinking for a few moments.  Then he reached across the cluttered desktop and picked up the telephone.

 

"Joe?  This is Tony  ...  Fine, thanks, and you?  ...  I am glad to hear it.  Listen, you know my, ah, getaway on the Old Mill Road?  Could you send Clark Kent over with two bottles of your finest Scotch next Friday morning around, say, ten o'clock?  ...  No, no, I'm, ah, entertaining some out-of-town guests, and they expressed an interest in meeting young Mr. Kent  ...  Tell him he can expect a substantial tip  ...  Thank you, Joe.  You are most accommodating  ...  You are too kind.  Ciao."

 

Tony put the receiver back in its cradle.  "Nice guy, Joe," he said reflectively.  "Too bad he'll have to find himself a new errand boy."

 

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

The Old Mill Road ran south of Smallville, between wide, stubbly cornfields that basked in the warm silence of the August morning -- a silence broken by a low hum as Clark sped along on his Vespa motor scooter.

 

Clark loved riding the Vespa, especially when he had the road all to himself and he could open the throttle.  The speed, the freedom, the wind in his face -- it almost reminded him how it felt to fly ...

 

The road ended about a quarter of a mile ahead, at the foot of a low rise of land.  A farmhouse and a few outbuildings stood out clearly on the sloping ground.  Clark slowed down and shifted gears as he turned off the road and began climbing the long driveway.

 

He was starting to feel nervous.  This was the first time Joe had asked him to deliver liquor.

 

"You know I wouldn't ordinarily ask you to do this," Joe had told him.  "But Mr. D'Amato wants you to deliver these personally.  He's entertaining some out-of-town guests at his place on the Old Mill Road.  Big-shot businessmen, you know what I mean?  And he says they want to meet Clark Kent, Smallville's Boy of Steel.  How do you like that?  So deliver the goods, shake hands, say how-do-you-do -- shmooze a bit, you know what I mean?  Mr. D'Amato says you can expect a nice big tip."

 

Clark was determined to make a good impression.  Maybe one of these businessmen was an alumnus of a Division I school, or a trustee, and could put in a word for him, maybe pull a few strings ...

 

Of course, he couldn't stay long.  He had to be at the football field by one o'clock, and he'd promised to give Suzy a lift.  It was the day of the big game against Martindale.  It was just a pre-season scrimmage, but Smallville and Martindale were strong contenders for the state championship this year, and the game was expected to draw a big crowd.

 

He was looking forward to giving Suzy a ride on the Vespa.  He loved it when she sat behind him on the motor scooter, her arms wrapped around his chest, her chin resting on his shoulder, her thighs pressed against his ...  Suzy had mentioned that Lana would be dropping by her house during the morning.  Clark figured they'd be listening to records and talking about clothes and ... well, girl stuff. 

 

Clark had to admit, Lana was okay.  She used to be a real pest, but lately she'd stopped hanging around him all the time.  She must have finally wised up and realized that someone like Lex Loser was more in her league.  And she'd done him a real favor the other night, after the play.   

 

He followed the driveway round to the back of the house, as Joe had instructed him, and parked his scooter in the shade of a chestnut tree.  He was surprised to see only two cars in the parking area.  Maybe Mr. D'Amato had converted one of the barns into a garage.  He took a parcel from the Vespa's side basket -- two bottles of Scotch, wrapped securely in brown paper -- and tucked it under his arm.

 

He could feel his heart beating nervously as he walked up to the back door of the farmhouse.  He smoothed his hair and adjusted his necktie; then he took a deep breath and knocked.

 

Almost immediately, the door opened a few inches.  Whoever was inside must have seen him coming up the driveway.

 

"Yes?" 

 

"Uh -- hi."  Clark smiled.  "I'm Clark Kent.  Mr. D'Amato is expecting me.  I have a delivery for him."  He nodded at the bundle in the crook of his elbow.

 

"Come on in."  The door swung open.  Standing in the doorway was a narrow-shouldered man in a grey suit.  He had a thin mustache and red-rimmed eyes, and Clark couldn't help noticing that his suit looked worn and threadbare.  Clark felt vaguely uneasy.  This guy didn't look like a big-shot businessman ...

 

Clark stepped inside and glanced around.  The shades were drawn and the room was dim, but it looked comfortably furnished.  The house was quiet.

 

"Uh -- Mr. D'Amato said that there were some people who wanted to meet me."

 

"Yeah.  He's, uh, showing his guests around the property.  They'll be back soon."  He opened a door and gestured toward a flight of stairs that led down into a cellar.  "Just go on downstairs and make yourself comfortable."

 

Clark hesitated.  He had a bad feeling about this.  He held out the parcel.

 

"If -- if it's all the same to you, I'll just wait outsi -- "

 

The words died on his lips.  Reaching inside his jacket, the man had taken out a revolver and pointed it toward Clark.

 

"Sorry, kid.  Mr. D'Amato wants you to wait downstairs.  Now get going.  And keep your hands up where I can see them."

 

Clark's jaw dropped.  He raised his hands and turned toward the cellar door.  This must be a dream, he thought as he began descending the stairs, carefully, one step at a time.

 

Another man was waiting at the bottom of the stairs -- a large, strongly-built man with a receding hairline and a nose that looked as if it had been broken more than once.  He, too, was holding a revolver. 

 

The thin man had followed Clark down the stairs.  Now he jerked his head toward a wooden chair in the middle of the room.

 

"Sit down, kid," he said.  "Don't do anything stupid and nobody gets hurt, see?  And one more thing.  We know who your girl-friend is."

 

Clark blinked, uncomprehending.  It was no secret that he was going steady with Suzy Prentiss.  What did she have to do with this?

 

"Look," he said.  "I don't know what this is about, but please -- don't hurt Suzy."

 

The thin man guffawed.

 

"You're good, kid.  A regular Marlon Brando.  But it's no use.  We know your girl-friend is really Supergirl.  But we've got everything all worked out, see?  So don't expect her to come flying to your rescue -- capeesh?"

 

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

"Oh, look at that one!"  Suzy pointed to a faded snapshot in the photo album lying open on her lap.

 

"Oh, how cute!" exclaimed Lana.  Two little girls were standing side by side, grinning up at the camera with identical gaps where their front teeth should have been.  "That must have been taken when we were, what -- five years old?"

 

"I guess.  People used to think we were twins, remember?"

 

Lana smiled ruefully.  "Not any longer."

 

Suzy shut the album and gazed earnestly at her friend.  "I wish you wouldn't say things like that, Lana.  You have a really pretty face.  You just need to let it show, that's all.  Listen, why don't the two of us go to a beauty parlor before school starts?  Maybe if you got your hair trimmed and curled?  That would be a really cute look on you -- especially if you got stylish glasses like the movie stars wear."

 

"I don't know," said Lana.  "My hair is so frizzy it won't take a perm."

 

"Well, at least you can upgrade your wardrobe.  Seriously, Lana, we're not kids any more -- we're going to be juniors.  Let me lend you some of my clothes.  How would you like to try on the poodle skirt and the pink cashmere sweater?"

 

"Isn't that sweater kind of -- tight?"

 

"Well, yeah!"  Suzy giggled.  "That's the whole idea -- show the boys what you've got."

 

"Thanks, Suzy," said Lana.  "I appreciate it -- really.  It's just that -- well, my mom is kind of strict when it comes to what I wear."

 

"Okay."  Suzy decided not to press the subject.  "So -- what's the story with you and Lex?  Are you two an item or what?"

 

"No!"  Lana squirmed, blushing furiously.  "We're just ... good friends.  That's all!"

 

Suzy grinned.  "Uh-huh.  Come on, Lana -- give me the scoop."  She sat cross-legged on the sofa and leaned toward Lana, eagerly attentive.

 

"Well ... " said Lana.  "It's just that -- Lex has been a really good friend for a long time and yeah, I've started to think that he could be something more than that but I don't know if he feels that way about me and the trouble is he's kind of shy so he might not say anything if he does but if I made the first move and he just wants to stay friends that would be really embarrassing and I'm afraid it might ruin our friendship and I wouldn't want that to happen for anything and so I don't know if I should -- "

 

The telephone rang in the hallway.

 

"Hold that thought," said Suzy.  "I'd better answer that."

 

She hopped off the sofa and ran to the hallway.  Lana heard her pick up the phone.

 

"Dr. Prentiss's residence," said Suzy.  There was a pause.  "This is Suzy.  May I ask who's calling?" 

 

She sounded uneasy.  Lana decided to listen in with her super-hearing.

 

"I think you know who I am, Miss Prentiss," a man's voice was saying.  It was a slow, husky voice, the voice of a man who chose his words with care, and Lana recognized it at once.  "After all, we have -- ah -- met before.  But my name does not matter.  What does matter is this.  Number one -- I know that you are Supergirl."

 

"What?  No -- that's -- "

 

"Please, Miss Prentiss, do not interrupt.  Number two -- your boy-friend Clark Kent is presently my -- ah -- personal guest.  I assure you that he is safe, and that no harm will come to him, provided you do exactly as I say."

 

"Clark?  What are you saying?  Is he all right?  Listen -- I'm not -- "

 

"You are a gifted actress, Miss Prentiss, but your -- ah -- histrionics do not fool me.  You are merely wasting time.  Now listen carefully.  There is an abandoned meat-packing plant on Endicott Road, a few miles north of Shelbyville.  Perhaps you know of it?  In any case, I am sure that a young lady with your -- ah -- talents will have no difficulty finding it.  Be there within half an hour.  Come alone.  Don't tell anyone about this conversation.  And remember -- I know who you are."

 

"Wait!" Suzy cried desperately.  "This is all a big mistake.  I -- "

 

"Good-bye, Miss Prentiss  You have thirty minutes."  There was a click, followed by the dial tone.  Suzy stood gaping at the receiver in her hand.

 

"Suzy?"  Lana was standing in the hallway, looking at her friend anxiously.  "What was that about?"

 

"I don't know!" Suzy wailed.  "This man thinks I'm Supergirl -- and, and he says he's holding Clark hostage -- and I'm supposed to be someplace in half an hour -- and ... oh, Lana, what's going on?  What am I going to do?" 

 

Suzy seemed on the verge of hysteria.  Gently, Lana took the receiver from her hand and put it back on the hook; then she steered her friend back into the living room and set her down on the sofa.

 

"Stay here," she said.  "Just take it easy.  I'll go find Chief Parker.  I can be at his office in a few minutes on my bike.  He'll know what to do.  Maybe he can get in touch with Supergirl.  Will you be all right if I leave you here?"

 

Suzy looked up and nodded tearfully.

 

"Good girl," said Lana, patting her shoulder.  She ran for the front door.  "Don't worry -- help is on the way!"

 

Sooner than you expect, she thought, shutting the door behind her.

 

Moments later, behind the house, Lana changed swiftly into her Supergirl costume and sprang into the air, faster than any human eye could follow.  Hovering above the clouds, she counted slowly to one hundred.  One ... two ... three ... She looked anxiously around her, wondering where Tony was holding Clark.  Even with her super-vision and super-speed, she couldn't scan the entire county in thirty minutes ...  Ninety-eight ... ninety-nine ... one hundred.

 

She flew down and alighted on the doorstep of Suzy's house.  Suzy's my best friend, but I've got to pretend I've never met her, she told herself.  I hope I'm half as good an actress as she is ...

 

She pushed the door open and stepped into the hallway.  "Suzy?  Suzy Prentiss?"

 

Suzy came running from the living room.  "Supergirl!" she cried.  "Am I glad to see you!  But -- but how did you get here so fast?"

 

Supergirl smiled.  "I was flying overhead on patrol and I saw your friend Lana rushing out of the house.  She said you're in some kind of trouble."  She took Suzy by the elbow and guided her back into the living room.  "Why don't you sit down and tell me what it's about?"

 

Quickly, Suzy told Supergirl about the telephone call.

 

"Hmmm," said Supergirl thoughtfully.  "This man who called -- did he have a husky voice?  Did he talk slowly -- pronounce his words very distinctly?"

 

Suzy nodded.  "Yes -- yes, he did."

 

"I have a pretty good idea who it is," said Supergirl.  "But do you have any idea why he thinks you're -- well, why he thinks you're me?"

 

"No -- honestly!"  Suzy blushed.  "I mean -- well, some of the boys ... at school ... they kind of tease me about being Supergirl.  It's just a joke.  I never thought anyone would take it seriously."

 

"It looks as if someone did."

 

"What are we going to do?" said Suzy anxiously.  "He said I'm supposed to be at this place in twenty minutes -- I mean, Supergirl is ... "

 

Supergirl stood looking down at Suzy for a few moments.  Then a corner of her mouth turned up in an enigmatic smile.

 

"Well," she said.  "Let's not disappoint him."  She laid a hand on Suzy's shoulder.

 

"Suzy," she said, "how would you like to be Supergirl for a day?"

 

 

TO BE CONTINUED ...

 

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NEXT ISSUE:

WHEW!  IF "FAT TONY" THOUGHT SUPERGIRL WAS

A HANDFUL, JUST WAIT TILL HE TANGLES WITH --

SUZY PRENTISS? READERS, DON'T MISS THE NEXT

EXCITING ISSUE OF ACENAUT COMICS--IN WHICH

THE CORPULENT CRIME-BOSS FACES THE FURY OF --    

"SUZY PRENTISS--THE CHEERLEADER OF STEEL!"   

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