10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 68: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

= thrown the lad out. Turning on his _ Vesey hopped around on his good foot. He sank into a chair, his pimply face twisted in pain. In his eyes was a venomous gleam of almost maniacal intensity. “You know, Vesey,” said Dogra softly, “I’m coming to the conclusion that the only way to keep your mouth shut—is to stick a gun into it. The next time—I’1l do it.” Then the gang chief looked calmly at Joe. “Do you know this fellow, Joe?” he asked. Joe shook his head *“‘Never seen him, boss.” “Then we better throw him into the street,” suggested Dogra, reaching for a cigar. Willy almost choked in his fury. “Tll get you, Dogra—you dirty, lousy—” Clapping his big hand over the boy’s mouth, Joe carried him to the head of the stairs. Dogra got his cigar going. “Is the strange young man leaving us, Joe?” “An’ how!” grinned the bull-necked gangster. With a shove he hurled Willy down the flight of stairs. - Bruised, bleeding, stunned almost into unconsciousness, Willy stumbled over the prone figure of the gangster he had downed. Teeth clenched Willy crawled to his feet to again start up the stairs. But Joe and Dogra were coming down. Joe thrust out his open hand and knocked Willy reeling onto the sidewalk, The boy went flat on the broken cement pavement. He gamely struggled to his hands and knees, try- ing to shake the grogginess out of his throbbing head. Dogra paused in the doorway and quickly glanced up and down the dim- ly-lighted street. A taxi parked sev- eral yards away brought a thin smile to his taut lips. Stepping onto the sidewalk, he raised his voice to the dazed boy. “Keep out of here, you gutter rat. Next time you try to frame a murder charge on me—you'll get hurt.” Dogra brushed his hands as if he had seriously. heel he entered the doorway. Just in- side he whirled around and stood against the wall. With a jerk of his thumb he motioned Joe to carry the fallen gangster upstairs. When the door upstairs shut, Dogra crouched in the darkness and watched the side- walk with those dead-cod eyes of his. ILLY felt strong arms lift him to his feet. The first thought that penetrated his dazed brain was that Joe was going to strong-arm him some more. Willy tensed his muscles for a roundhouse swing to his tor- © mentor’s jaw. But his flexing muscles telegraphed the blow to the man be- hind him. Before the punch got under way, Willy felt his arms pinned help- lessly to his sides. A gruff voice spoke in his ear: “Take it easy, young feller, you’ll last longer.” Willy twisted his head around and saw part of the visored cap usually worn by metropolitan taxi drivers. Beneath it were a pair of steady blue eyes. “Why, why, who are you?” he asked thickly. The chauffeur released his grip, turning the boy around. He nodded toward the parked taxi several yards down the street. “There’s a lady in my cab wants to see you.” The taxi door swung open and Willy saw a beautiful blonde girl step onto the running-board. Yes, even at that distance, he could tell that she was beautiful. She beckoned to him with a wave of her hand. Willy started. Somewhere, some place he had seen that girl. But his still groggy mind failed to show the connection. When she stepped out of the taxi, he knew he must have been dreaming. No girl he knew owned a scarlet evening gown and spangled wrap. The blonde beckoned again. With a shrug Willy limped toward the waiting girl. The taxi driver went on ahead and slid under the wheel. | As Willy neared the cab the blonde = er it ! , Te A — y ny 4 i : yaa dies Ral . NS WAN ik es 7" Yep fk Un ¥ ‘ } i Vr edi) ye HES ab ge Hal 3 ie Cae Pek Dame pay ony +i) ray i : “ » CUDA Pee | ve oe eee A) + ai dep: f] y rie AA 4 % ¢ i 4 . Kis ray fe if Ms Pe N is DN) Pal iP a pie 4 13 iy) am BAe