10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 39: what you’re looking at

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

—_-——__—————— LONG-DISTANCE DOOM—___———__——_—__37 —Martin with his gruesome burden over his left shoulder and his right hand gripping a heavy revolver, and the giant simply standing with one arm loose and the other thrust for- ward, pointing the gun at Martin’s midriff. “Who are you?” the giant finally growled. His weapon did not waver. “T was called here by Nelson Lind- sey,’ Martin replied. “And who are you?” The chain-store magnate himself stepped forward from behind the giant, “This is Eric, one of my servants,” Lindsey said. And, catching sight of Martin’s burden, “Gad! What is that you are carrying?” For answer the detective stepped forward, around the giant, who still covered him with the gun, and in the doorway. Lindsey and the giant fol- lowed. “In that room to the right,” Lind- sey directed. Martin went on into the room with- out looking back. It was the chain- store magnate’s study. He stopped in the center of the thick rug and un- ceremoniously dumped his burden to the floor. “My butler!” Lindsey gasped, en- tering ahead of the giant. “Is he— has he been shot?” Martin nodded. “Murdered!’ Eric looked on expressionlessly. Not a muscle in his big face moved. Staring with wide eyes at the body on the floor, Lindsey swallowed with an effort. “Who—” “T don’t know,’ Martin said. “But whoever killed him got him by mis- take. They meant to get me.” Swiftly he related his experiences of the eve- ning, but glossed over his impressions of the attacker who had horsewhipped him. “The claimed. “Tt looks that way,” Martin agreed, and jerked his head toward Eric. “By the way, what was this fellow doing kidnapers!’ Lindsey ex- standing there on the porch with a gun when I arrived?” “When I heard the shots, I called him,” Lindsey explained. “I told him to go out and see what was the mat- ter. It might have been back-fires from some car on the street, you see. I wasn’t sure. He was on his way to investigate when you appeared.” Martin’s eyes narrowed, but he did not comment further. He was looking at the giant’s trousers. A strand of something was caught in one of the cuffs. “Call the police,” he said, and trans- ferred his gaze to the body on the floor. “We can’t do that!” moaned. ‘My son! They will think— son!” “No,” said Martin. “They won’t do that. They know about the murder of the butler. They know you have to call the police.” He was standing near Eric now, wiping his hands with a handkerchief. “You can stall them off for a while. You don’t have to say anything about the kidnaping.” “All right,” Lindsey said after a moment. “T’ll do it.” He moved across the room and picked up a telephone from a desk. Eric’s stolid eyes fol- lowed him. Lindsey The kidnapers! They’ll kill my OKE MARTIN’S handkerchief dropped and he stooped to pick it up. As he straightened, an imper- ceptible flick of the wrist gave him the wisp of hemp he had seen in Eric’s trouser cuff. He wiped his hands again carelessly, and the little strand went into his pocket with the hand- kerchief. 3 “Nelson Lindsey speaking,” the gray-haired man said into the phone. “My butler has been shot to death .... What?.... Yes.” He pronged the receiver and turned to Martin. “They're coming.” “Good enough,” the detective said. “Now we've got to talk fast. I’ve got to get out of here before the police Eomichooks.com