10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 99: what you’re looking at

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

SHARPSHOOTER—WITHOUT BULLETS-———————97 TSD Parker nodded, staring straight ahead. “Was. I’m afraid she won’t, though. She’s been carried off. Last night she went to bed as usual. About two hours later, her maid was pass- ing in the corridor and heard a sort of muffied cry. Before she had a chance to do anything, the door of Brenda’s room was flung open and a man with a handkerchief over his face came tearing out. He was carrying Brenda over his shoulder. Before the maid could cry out, the man struck her in the face and knocked her out. When she came to, the man had dis- appeared with Brenda.” Norvale whistled. ““No trace of her in the countryside?” Parker grinned sourly. They were coming through the massive gate of the estate. The gate had been opened for them by a man who stood on guard, “There’s no sense in searching the countryside,” Parker stated. “Bren- da’s somewhere inside the walls. The man could never have got her out. There are a dozen guards on the grounds, besides the dogs at night. And there’s a wire running around along the entire circumference of the wall; from dusk to dawn it carries enough electricity to kill a man. It was _ put up for the protection of the mu- seum specimens. No, she’s in here, and so is her abductor. But the grounds have been turned upside down without finding her!” “Well,” said Norvale, “it looks as if I should have brought my gun!” HEY passed several other guards between the gate and the house. Parker,. leaving the car in the drive- way, conducted Norvale inside, past the single officer left on guard by the state troopers. Donald Weston was in the combina- tion study and library on the ground floor. It was here that the millionaire spent most of his leisure, poring over ornithological tomes. He was a short, thin man of fifty who looked more like a bookworm than like the reckless market plunger the world knew him to be. His recent tremendous loss in the market did not seem to have af- fected him particularly. He was the kind of man, Norvale thought, who could be as careless of other people’s lives and money as of his own. The abduction of his ward, Brenda Ewing, might not mean as much to him as the loss of one of the precious skins in his private collection. He greeted Norvale warmly, mo- tioned to Parker to leave them alone. Parker asked: “Any word of Miss Ewing, Mr, Weston?” “No,” said Weston shortly. Parker said: “T’ll have your bag taken up to the same room you had last time, Captain Norvale.” : When he left them, Weston swung around to Norvale. “Look here, Roger. I’m more worried about this business of Brenda than I appear to be. I don’t know whom to trust.” He took off his glasses, waved them in the air, “Every inch of the estate has been searched.” He thrust out his hands appealingly. “Help me, Roger, won’t you?” “Of course,” said Norvale. “But don’t expect much of me. I’m not a trained detective.” He. thrust his hands in his pockets, began to pace slowly up and down. “What about Parker? Can you trust him?” “Certainly. The police questioned him. But I'll swear he had nothing to do with it. He’s in love with Brenda —was hoping to marry her.” Norvale’s nose twitched disgusted- ly. “How did Brenda feel about that?” “I can’t say she was enthusiastic. I don’t think she—ah—encouraged his suit.” “Good for Brenda,” Norvale laughed. “I see she has grown up to be a young lady of discrimination.” Suddenly a thought occurred to him. “Why was Parker so eager to marry her—outside of being in love? Has » Brenda got money in her own right?” Weston nodded. “Brenda inherits the bulk of her mother’s estate in two uly oy. , : % Pe ee , A; ti v f DL PA antes Re Ge ated 5 ' i, rie