10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

18—______————-10-STORY DETECTIVE—————————— hour, could have preceded him there and waited for him. Then her eyes, still staring, changed direction and expression, jerking past his shoulder to the door. Millard had- n't heard it open, but when he swung around the first of the two hoods was already in the room. He was short and stubby, with a flat shoe-horn nose and dark-stubbled jowls. The blued barrel of the auto- matic jutting from his fist looked like an undersized eannon. He motioned jerkily with it, and his voice had the metallic cadence of an Oriental’s. “Lift.’°em—lift ’em! Drop the rod, sister.” She stared down in surprise at the gun in her hand, dropped it as if it were a hot coal. Then she looked up and eried shakily: “Who are you? What do you want?” The stubby man didn’t answer her. He said, off the side of his lips: “‘Get that roscoe, Joe, while I frisk the umpchay.” Joe, the other man, had a cleft red chin and the stolid eyes of a doll. He nodded, closed the door behind him, crossed swiftly past Millard and picked up Millard’s automatic that May had let drop. “What is this?” Millard rapped tightly as the other one got behind him, slapped his pockets. “I’m not heeled.” “So you ain’t! Keep those flippers up and just take it easy, sport.” The man got a fistful of the back of Mill- ard’s collar, jerked hard. “Sid down!” Yanked off balance, Millard sat down abruptly in a straight-back ehair that was behind him. Paim flared in his head and he clamped his teeth to hold back a hot surge of an- ger. The mam stayed behind him, be- hind the back of his chair. “All right, sister,’ he rasped. “Where’s Eddie?” She turned a startled white face to him. “Eddie—!” “Yeh-—Eddie. We want him, cateh on? He was supposed to be here. Where is he?” Her eyes narrowed and she asked swiftly: “What do you want him for?” The monotonous voice dropped half a tone, hitting a sinister minor note. “Never mind what for. Where is he?” A hardness gathered about her firm: little jaw. “I don’t know.” “So you don’t know. Well, you’re his sister, and [ think you do. Talk or Joe will show you a few tricks that'll make you wish you had.” ‘OER, standing back away from her, nodded and grinned eagerly. Alarm enlarged her eyes, but her jaw set with a fierce stubbornness. Millard, sitting tensely on the edge ‘of his chair, bit out: “You rats! She told you she didn’t know. Maybe he was here, but he’s gone now. You can see that for your- self.” Gun-steel gouged his neck from be- hind, and the one with the stubblied jowls warned him: “You keep out of this. Keep your big yap closed, un- less you know where Eddie is. If you do, you better spill if you don’t want to see your sugar take a working over.” “He doesn’t know!’ May Fitz whis- pered tensely, and her eyes were glow- ing like twin fire opals. “And I don’t either.” Behind Millard, the stubby man snarled disgustedly: “Okay, Joe. Go to work on her.” Joe licked his eurved heavy lips and put Millard’s gun down on a table by the bed. May swung to face him, eringed away as he advanced on her. He took a fast step, and his hands moved like clockwork, chopping her face with precise slapping hlows, Her head jumped on her slim shoulders and her hat was knocked askew, letting down a lock of her soft brown hair. Quick red patches sprouted under her smooth cheek- bones as she backed! away, trying to com 1GbooksSscom