10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 91: what you’re looking at

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

Angeles where. we were to abandon the sound truck and the two limou- sines and pick up two other cars. There was a lot of general talk about the whole setup and the amount of the dough they expected to haul. Jake gave Shorty and me a good talk- ing-to and wound up by telling us that we’d better play our parts well because there’d be loaded guns trained upon us every second of the time. Then we were given another feed, and Shorty and I were locked up in our littl room again. It must have been three or four in the afternoon by this time. Around nine, somebody handed an- other feed into us. We ate this, flopped down on the beds and dozed. I guess we slept for about four or five hours. Then Hammy came, unlocked the door and told us to come into the front room. All of the boys were there, and every last man of them had a pint of whiskey in his fist, including our benefactor, Jake Kroll. Jake waved his hand at the almost empty case at his feet, and told us to treat ourselves to a pint. I glanced at the open door leading outdoors into the night, and the notion crossed my mind that I might make a bolt through it. But there were too many gun muzzles pointing in my direction. I helped my- self to a pint, pulled out the cork. I — saluted Jake with the pint, and said: | “Here’s to crime.” Then I took a long drink, “When we finish these up,” Jake said, “then we'll start.” HE RIDE back to Los Angeles was altogether too short for me. The nearer we got to the city, the more jittery I got. Around seven- thirty in the morning we pulled into a deserted field somewhere in the vi- cinity of Burbank. More pints were produced. We all had a few balls, and those of us who were supposed to be actors smeared greasepaint on our faces. It didn’t} seem like any time at all before Jake Kroll flicked aside his cigar butt and snapped: ‘Nine o’clock. Let’s go.” My heart sank right down to my boots. The car carrying the boys in the fancy get-up—the berets and all— went first. The sound truck followed them, and after that came our car, bristling with guns. The city was fully awake and going about its busi- ness when we rolled into it about half an. hour later. I kept darting my eyes left and right, wondering when we were going to come to the bank we planned to knock off. I thought I might spot a cop and perhaps give him a signal, or something. / 2 é PUSS Fe phy tat 7 . ines pe AY Lt AY) TT ae f br % W ty Bybee A: f hal Ree % { t e \) iS eA wy" Hh pe MA i main tet ie 7 MG bite a AD Wht eee deat DA eaeee aes beet i uhh ee } *% iA Fy iy OTS Oe LOW ¢ i pw, 4! ft i NG) Ait PRU ORE AN Lieeicae Nk vk yA ee ig tig a uM is iy are } fu 51) BE : ia Oy) athens} f { x fis i f {thes Lee URS Mit otra at dan ety ny fy Ny i b Quid) PN ot bie yd) : he ie ie yyy Ae: test % ad ea : ny 4" 7 NER ot pit 7h * s, ye » " 4 we | My a m - aw, ny j * iy) 4 ‘ ‘ ‘i