Pulp Fiction, 1946 · page 6 of 84
10-Story Detective Magazine, April 1946 — page 6: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Description This is an interior story page from a pulp fiction magazine featuring "Merchant of Vengeance" by Glenn Low, labeled a "Dynamic Detective Novelet." The page contains Chapter I of the story, beginning with prose narrative. The visible text introduces Tommy Slawter, described as a private investigator, and depicts a scene where a worried woman clutches his arm, desperately trying to stop him from boarding a bus. She pleads with him not to let "him" kill her boy. The driver questions what's eating the old lady, and Slawter cryptically responds about a "queer one" before noticing a rolled page of newspaper. The page includes a dramatic black-and-white illustration at the top showing the scene with the woman and investigator near a bus, with buildings and trees visible in the background.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Merchant of Vengeance By Glenn Low : Dynamic Detective Novelet ' CHAPTER I kitchen filling the cooky jar or baking pies for the Sunday com- pany. Her faded print dress and tie- around apron were strictly out of place there on the midnight street. She was the motherly housewifey type. Tommy Slawter, private investigator, instant- ly liked her round, dimpled face with its wide-set blue eyes. It was not until she elutched his arm that he saw the fear, the awful dread buried in that nice face, sheeted in those honest eyes, “I know you,” she said. There was ynufiled desperation in her voice. ““You’re the detective, Mr. Tommy Slawter.” He nodded. “That’s right, ’m Tommy S HE should have been busy in the Slawter. But I’m catehing this bus home. I got no time—” The bus started to move. Everybody else had got on. In a second the driver would close the doors, She clung to him, reluctant to let him go, “Please. Please don’t let him kill my boy!” “Sorry,” he said, breaking her hold on his arm. He was swinging into the bus when she said: “The man in there, You'll know him. Please stop him. Please—” — “What’s eating the old lady?” the driver asked as Slawter paid his fare. “Wacky maybe?” “Don’t know,” Slawter said. “Queer one, though.” It was then he really be- came aware of the rolled page of news- CON) (-) DOOKS