THE BASTARD
By
Running off at the mouth--a rough one--P. C. Cameron goes off to nab his old rival-enemy Goodwin with the help of a detective inspector whom he hates about equally. After Cameron snarls (sloppily and repetitiously) in ""anger, hatred, contempt,"" you-name-it, with perhaps good reason, he leaves the D.I., both legs broken, to die in his own muck. If you enjoy watching Charles Bronson, you might want to read this.