Pulp Fiction, 1942 · page 61 of 116
10 Story Detective, July 1942 — page 61: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page 59: Story Text with Illustration This is an interior story page from a pulp magazine featuring "Larceny's Handbook" by Vincent Hartnett. The page contains prose narrative accompanied by a black-and-white illustration of a man's face in the upper right. The story depicts a crime scenario: two small-time crooks rob Fred Foster and Kay Carter, wealthy theater patrons leaving the Schiller Theater. One criminal, called "the Runt," is small and rat-like; his partner is larger. The Runt uses an automatic pistol to force Fred and Kay into a limousine, where he ties and gags them before driving away. The narrative suggests this is part of a larger scheme these criminals have devised.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
A couple of small-time crocks reb a couple of big-time professionals— only to learn some new tricks in... By Vincent Hartnett “6 OOD NIGHT, Miss Carter,” C. said the gray-haired door- man. “Good night, Mr. Fos- ter.” Darkness beat into the foyer as he held the stage door open. Fred Foster and Kay Carter stepped out of the Schiller Theater and into the night. They halted by the side of the building as Fred lit a cigarette. Behind them, a multicolored poster announced the Schiller’s current smash hit: MURDER WITH MIRTH With Fred Foster and Kay Carter Magic, Comedy and Murder! “The Season’s Laughingest Thriller” —Stuart, Daily Herald Blond, lovely Kay Carter drew her eve- ning wrap snugly about her’ shoulders, grasped Fred’s arm [Ria tightly. Their foot- “san steps sent hollow echoes bowling down the narrow side street. Somewhere, a clock sounded half-past twelve. Fred fumbled in his pocket for his ear keys as they halted beside an ex- pensive limousine. He fitted a key to the lock. “Okay, now !” The voice was low, menacing. Out of the gloom of an alleyway stepped two men, dark hats pulled low over their eyes, right hands buried suggestively in overeoat pockets. One was a big fellow, with hulking shoulders. The Mister, we'll take over other was small and shifty like a rat. “Runt!” “Yes, Al?” The little guy’s voice was cringing, fearful. “Frisk them! Look out the guy ain’t got a gat. These rich actors got that bad habit!” The Runt edged up to Fred, as the big guy, Al, kept his hidden automatic trained on him. He ran expert fingers over his person, took Fred’s wallet, watch and jeweled cigarette ease. Then he grabbed Kay’s evening bag. All Fred could do was to smile encourag- ingly at Kay, wait for a chance to get the jump on Al. But the big man read his thoughts. ‘No funny stuff, guy!” he growled. “If you start anything, your girl friend gets the first slug!” He rummaged in an overcoat pocket, pulled out several pieces of rope and some twisted hand- kerchiefs. “Okay, Runt,”’ he ordered. HE Runt stuck the end of his automatic into Fred’s back. “In- side, guy!’ Fred scrambled into the back seat. There the Runt tied him hand and foot, blindfolded him, gagged him with brutal thoroughness. Then he did the same to Kay. Al climbed into the driver’s seat, started the pro- testing motor. The Runt shoved their victims onto the floor of the car, kick- 59 GORiGooo S (C(O) im