10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 64: what you’re looking at

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

62 ————_____—_—_———__10-STORY DETECTIVE “Mine’ll be lead,” Gore snapped through set teeth. He leaned forward, bending his knees, His eyes were riveted on Nick’s right hand, watching the forefinger nestling around the trigger. If he could only get his lanky frame in mo- tion before the slug battered him... “You’re asking for it,” Nick snarled. ‘‘Here it is!” Even as he leaped, Gore was sur- prised to hear a erashing of bushes in- stead of a roar of gunfire. His eyes were closed so that he saw nothing— but he felt his shoulder strike a body that was suddenly limp. And as he fell and rolled with that body his hand came in contact with a warm, slippery fluid, and his nostrils recognized the sweetish odor of blood. He blinked down at the smashed, bleeding head of Nick Spain beneath him and at the jagged roek that had smashed it. Then he blinked up at Leslie Madden’s stocky figure. Madden’s hands hid his face. He babbled in utter horror: “My heavens, I killed him! Now I really am a mur- derer. But I couldn’t let him kill Jeanne, and I had that rock in my hand—” Gore got slowly to his feet. ‘““That wasn’t murder, You saved three lives. Nick was a rat who needed killing.” “It was my last chance,” Madden moaned. “Nick was going to get me out of this. He knew where I could hide—” “Snap out of it!” Gore commanded gruffiy. “Nick wasn’t going to do you any favor. Once he got your confes- sion, he’d own you body and soul. If you inherited the estate, he’d milk you dry. If you didn’t, he’d turn you in for a reward.” “He came here to blackmail me,” Madden said. “He heard I was out of prison. He had a check I forged—one I was never caught with. He was go- ing to send me back to prison unless I paid five thousand dollars. I didn’t have the money, and I was afraid to tell him dad had cut me out of his will, and was going to wait a year before putting me back—” “What?” “Dad changed the will when I went to prison,’ Madden explained. ‘He said I hadn’t been a good son to him and he was going to leave his money to some one who had been.” Gore whistled softly. “That changes things. It leaves you without a mo- tive. Why should you kill your father, knowing you’d lose a fortune unless he lived at least a year?” “T wouldn’t have killed him under any circumstances,” Madden said wearily. “I was willing to sign a phony confession for Spain just to get away and take a chance on getting it back later. I thought a lot of Dad and I was sincere about reforming. But when it happened and I found every- body against me, I knew I was sunk. I wouldn’t even waste my breath denying it. I just wanted to hide.” Jeanne leaned impulsively toward her brother. “I believe you,” she said, her words coming in a rush of happi- ness. “I knew all along you couldn’t have done it.” Her eyes sought Gore. “Don’t you see, Pete? If what hap- pened to Nick horrified him—” “TI see,” Gore said,” and I don’t see. Didn’t you take a shot at me, Mad- den? That wound on your hand—” “I cut it fighting with the cops. I didn’t shoot at anyone.” Denning stirred, groaned and sat up. Gore could see the dark blood streaking his cheek, flowing from a gash over his eye where the revolver had struck a glancing blow. Denning mumbled: “What about Nick? Maybe Nick did it.” ORE shook his head. “I saw Nick run away. He didn’t have a chance to do any shooting.” His voice hardened. “But the man who was to benefit by the changed will would have had a motive—the one who had been more like a son to the judge than Leg.’ . ‘ The secretary snorted. “Meaning me? As a matter of fact, the judge did “ea 3 COPMIE OOO KS ,EOI A)