10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 102: what you’re looking at

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

100 open coat at the end of the corridor to unlock the cell door. Duryea pushed his big frame through the door. A trace of surprise discernible in his voice, he said: “Patty O'Reilly. I never figured on seeing you here.” The girl looked up. She had been crying. Her pretty little face was red and streaked. With the manner of one unexpectedly finding an old friend in a strange and hostile land, she gasped: “Mr. Duryea!” Her eyes showed relief and sudden hope. “Who framed you into this hole?” Duryea asked, faint anger in his voice. “It was a frame, Mr. Duryea! I haven’t done a thing—honest, not a thing!” Duryea sat. He looked at Patty closely. He had known her since she was a kid. Straight as a string. “Tell your Uncle Biff,” he said kindly. “TI—-I’ve never been in—in a cell before. It’s—it’s awful!’ “You’re right. It is.” “They—they framed me, Duryea. They did, honest!” “Who?” “T don’t know.” This, Duryea told himself, was un- usual. Ordinarily, a person knew who had done the framing, and why. But he asked: “How’d it happen, Patty?’ Her face was without deceit, her tone frank, as she explained: “Yesterday afternoon as I was leav- ing work—lI work in Golio’s Fur Store —Mr. Golio stopped me and gave me a bundle to deliver the first thing this morning. It was out of my way, so he gave me carfare. He said it didn’t make any difference if I was a little late.” Duryea nodded, and she continued: “So I took the bundle home and kept it in my room all] night. This morning, I left my room with the bundle, in- Mr. 10-STORY Di TECTIVE tending to deliver it and when I stepped outside the house, Mr. Crain, the policeman, was there.” “Officer Crain, eh?” “Yes. He said, ‘Hello, Patty,’ and I told him good morning. Then he asked, ‘Pretty big bundle for a little girl to carry, isn’t it? And I told him I didn’t mind. He looked at me kind of funny and wanted to know what was in it. I told him I didn’t know. _ “He laughed in a sneering way and demanded to see what was in it. I told him I couldn’t, but he got mad so I took the bundle back into the house and opened it. It was a fur coat. Mr. Crain said, ‘I thought so. Figured you were pretty safe, didn’t you? Well, come along, the chief would like to see you.’ Honest, Mr. Duryea, I was so frightened, I didn’t know what to do!” “And what did the chief say?” “The furs had been stolen. They accused me of doing it. But I didn’t. I didn’t know anything about it until the chief told me.” “Um,” said Duryea. “And that wasn’t all. Mr. Crain went back to my room and found four more coats. There wasn’t much I could say except that somebody had put them there while I was being ar- rested. And they didn’t believe me.” “Did you call Mr. Golio?”’ “Yes, and Mr. Golio told the chief that he didn’t give me the coat to de- liver and that I was fired!’ “Muffy Sirro has been makin’ a play for you, hasn’t he?’ Duryea asked. A look of loathing came over Pat- ty’s face. “Yes,” she admitted. Then: “How did you know?” “T always kind of keep an eye on folks I used to know.” “But I told him where he could head in, I don’t want to be mixed up with racketeers.” Duryea rose. “Yeh,” he said. “Be seein’ you.” And left. comichooks.com