10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 74: what you’re looking at

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

Ce, OL Sa Oi Cia ays ye ‘ Linn {oh val si! 1At Y ae \ * vie, SES fe i v bali ih Aah) Ty HUA) ‘p SARE RPA Ny 5 ae ky : ; oy Aer ewan wy fe a “a SA tan Otel ‘ pS y NE poet 4 ghey 1 +, f es a ATS wT POP arte ae Lh ee lee ts ik Aven 4 iN he » Very THO Ua eat Somigety iv ey , & UK aE RAID, Che Oleg: eC 2 eh a ; Ley ‘ ) Wats det Alb ~~ yi Aivdi ee il” Wi, 1 oN Na A! “\ eae fies i : ae ry ; i Le ¢ a? =e - down the helpless man and drove the - breath from his body. But, as that slimy mass gathered around him, Gardner knew who that man was! There were two tons of concrete in that cubic yard, but fortunately it did not come all at once and it was mixed extremely wet. Gardner fought the instinct to raise up as it rose swiftly and covered his bowed head. The sharp, slimy stuff worked under his eyelids and into the corners of his mouth. Once, a mile runner in college, he hhad been able to hold his breath near- ly three minutes. He wondered if he could do it again. Three minutes to fill that hole; to smooth it off as be- fore; to yank back the tarpaulin! Not much time. Gardner gritted his teeth, resolved to hold on to the uttermost. ' Meanwhile, he worked with the frenzy of despair at his bonds. Wet now, the leather seemed to give. There was a steady roaring in his ears. He wondered what they were doing. Wondered, crazily, if he were losing his mind when he found him- self hoping that the cement would not ruin his watch. He knew that the cement would not set up for fifteen minutes but suppose, he speculated wildly, he were too weak to raise him- self. His muscles, already, seemed palsied. For a dread space of eternity, he saw himself collapsing ; he visioned himself a part of a structure which would endure centuries. What irony! ‘He lost all track of time. An iron hand gripped his chest as his tortured lungs screamed for air. He knew that he could not hold out much longer; that he must save his strength against the time when he must fight his way out from beneath that death bringing tarpaulin. Yet he held on. Then, when he could stand it no longer, he rose up. Opened smarting eyes. It was black as pitch. Even then, his reeling senses bade him draw in air with caution. It was noxious and it rushed warmly past his streaming face, but it was air. Not all bad, either. Then he saw why. He > we 2—______________10.STORY DETECTIVE—— saw a faint crack of light. He had come up directly beneath the junction between two sections of tarps. Thrusting his nose through the crack he breathed greedily of the life- giving air. He felt stronger at once. Giving a tremendous tug, his hands separated. Waited a moment longer with ear against the canvas. All was still outside. He found his pocket knife and ripped his way out. Crawled out, a sodden, freezing figure, and lay panting like a sick dog. SATURDAY afternoon quiet pervaded the job office the fol- lowing day when Gardner entered it at two o’clock. Neither Drew nor Slemmins were in their offices. Emer- son’s door was slightly ajar. Gardner stole down the passage and listened to a council of war being held within. Tim Egan had just said something which was interrupted by a protest from Jane Thorpe and a rumble from Thomas MeGann. Tim Egan went on. “Shure, I can’t belave it nayther, sorr. "T'ain’t like Misther Gardner to use a shillaly on a pore old feller like Jonas. Course, we found his hat near- by, but—” “What of it?” Emerson barked. “Jonas lied or is seeing things. He’s deaf anyway. I figure Jimmy’s come to a bad end—” “Not so bad, Ray,” Gardner said, stepping inside. Every one in that office sprang to his feet with a cry of astonishment. Jane Thorpe looked at his bruised face with concern in her brown eyes. Gardner smiled at her, but he locked the door, pocketed the key, and held up his hand. For a mo- ment there was an electric silence as his gray eyes bore into the face of each man in the room. Then, deliberately, he reached into his coat and held up a pair of hand- euffs, Grinned slightly. “I have others,” he said significantly. His stare fastened on the agent. “Slem- mins, put out your hands!” | Slemmins wore a bandage around the middle finger of his right hand —