10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 63: what you’re looking at

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

JAILBIRD JUSTICE—-——— 6 held the pistol steady, and his voice was grim. “Put ’em up. The charge is murder, and you’re both in it.” Madden choked back a frightened ery and stood rigid. Nick Spain swung around, his hand darting toward his coat pocket—but when he saw Gore’s pistol he thought better of whatever he had intended doing, and raised his arms. “Not me,” Nick rasped. Madcen done the rubout.” “You were going to help him get away,” Gore pointed out. “That makes you an accessory, and equally guil- ty—” “Leslie!’ Jeanne shrilled. Gore realized abruptly that, while he had been watching Spain, Madden had edged away from them. Madden made a break now, springing toward the inky blackness of the woods. The investigator’s gun swiveled, It wasn’t a question any more of giving Jeanne’s brother the benefit of any doubt—it was a question of stopping a confessed killer. Gore’s trigger fin- ger squeezed relentlessly and his jaw was hard. Even in the dark, he shouldn’t miss— And then another hurtling shadow blotted out the shadow of the fleeing youth. Gore held back the bullet at the last split-second to avoid hitting Denning. The secretary shot through the air in a flying tackle. His out- stretched hands reached for Madden’s legs, grasped them—and slid away, clutching empty air. The tackler struck earth heavily. The fugitive sped on. “Too bad,” Gore muttered, sighting the pistol again. “Drop it!’ Nick rasped suddenly. “Drop that rod and reach high!” The slim crook swept his hand up from his coat pocket as he spoke, and the hand held a revolver. Gore hesi- tated for the merest instant, then let the pistol slip out of his fingers. He choked back fury and advised: “Don’t be a fool, Nick.” “It was “T ain’t no fool. I been up against the law before and came through it, but I ain’t standing no murder rap.” “You won’t save your neck this way.” “The hell I won’t!” Nick grated. “You -been trying to hang a murder on me, so I'll give you one. I'll give you three. [ll put a slug in each of you and nobody will know I wags even near this joint.” “The cops will run you down.” “T’ll take a chance. If I get clear, they’ll blame Madden. Ill get that confession from him and then I’ll be set.” Jeanne’s voice was a ghost of a whisper. “Don’t do it, Nick. There’s been enough killing—” Gore’s hands were shoulder-high, but he took a chance and put one arm around Jeanne’s shoulders. He held her tightly for a second and then twisted his body so that she was part- ly shielded. He was going to leap in a moment straight toward the revol- ver and probably he was going to die with a bullet in his heart or his brain, but he might save her life. He could see Denning gathering himself for a last desperate struggle, too. Denning was just straightening after his fall and his shoulders were hunched ominously. Nick said brightly: “If I don’t have to feed you lead, it'll be nicer, see? The cops won’t hear no noise, and I won’t have to hurry. But if any of you starts yelling or running, I'll blast you to little pieces.” ICK whirled with lightning speed upon Denning. Nick’s right arm moved and the revolver flashed in a glittering arc. Denning was caught utterly off guard; the steel struck his skull with a sickening sound, The secretary crumpled. “Get the idea, copper?” Nick gloated, twisting back and aiming the gun at the investigator before the lat- ter could make a move. ‘‘Now I can dust him off ‘at leisure and it won’t hurt a bit. Will you have the same?” Gomicbooks.com