10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 92: what you’re looking at

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

99 ——_—___—_—_—_——-10-STORY DETECTIVE UDDENLY they wheeled around a great bluff, and there before them lay a walled estate, Cold stone flashed back the rays of their headlights as they passed through an arched gate- way. Ahead was a massive pile of masonry that aped a medieval castle. Pricking pinpoints of light sparkled in its recessed windows. About a hun- dred yards to one side was a squat building flanked by lighted wires of a small broadcasting station. MacFarlane switched off his motor and lights, coasting up to the main building in a quiet glide. Just then all the windows of the house went black. A mad unearthly laugh ripped the suddenly solid silence. That laugh seemed to jeer, and mock, and threat- en, allin a single breath. Then it min- gled with the crescendo notes of a piercing scream. There was terror in that scream. Blood-chilling terror that ended abruptly with a horrible, choking finality, Steele gripped the ranger’s arm with tense fingers. “Great heavens!” he gasped, ““‘What was that?” MacFarlane did not answer. One hand jerked for the switch of the spot- light, and a brilliant beam cut through the darkness. That slender pencil of light leaped out just in time to il- luminate the slim figure of a woman who was hurrying toward the car. In an instant, she perceived the unjform of the ranger. With a stifled shriek of dismay, she dodged out of the light and ran swiftly for the shelter of the roadside. Steele was out of the car with a bound. MacFarlane searched the grounds with swift, erratic stabs of the spotlight, whipping its brilliance ‘baek and forth in jerky arcs. From somewhere, a shadowy phantom dived at Steele. A knife gleamed. Steele’s arm shot out and up in a wicked, - twisting blow, and that shadow went spinning. The spotlight shifted, and picked up the scurrying shape of the fleeing woman just as Steele gained her side. Instantly she hurled something from her hand, and again a shadowy someone rose from the brush to catch what she threw. A pistol flame laced the night a split second after Mac- Farlane’s voice bawled a harsh com- mand to stand still. The ranger’s service gun roared a harsh answer to the spiteful bark of the automatic, and the shadow dropped. MacFarlane’s feet thudded swiftly against the ground. Steele hurried back to the car, tight- ly clasping a struggling armful of tangled skirt and silken hosiery. His jaw snapped tight as the glow from the dash lighted a pretty slant-eyed face. “Toy San!” he exclaimed harshly. “TI might expect to find you somewhere about- when there are government secrets to be pried into!” The pretty little Oriental relaxed in his arms, and looked up at him with a twisty smile. ‘‘The very clever Ro- land Steele could not be wrong,” she declared mockingly. “You follow me about like a very jealous and mistrust- ing lover!” “And now that I have found you, I shall take good care that you d@ not escape me this time,” Steele stated grimly. There was the sharp click of metal as he cuffed her slender wrist to the steering wheel. Toy San laughed musically. “I am your prisoner,” she said softly, turn- ing the full battery of her charm upon him, “A prisoner of love?” “A prisoner of state,’’ Steele con- tradicted firmly, yet he felt a little stab of sympathy in his heart as he looked at her. She was so small and appealing. But her dainty prettiness was only a cover for a steel-hard de- termination and ruthless efficiency, and no one knew that better than did Roland Steele. Murder was but little more than a tiresome detail to her if she should find murder necessary. MOMENT later MacFarlane joined them. He splattered the ground with a splash of tobacco juice. “The fellow you slugged made his Eomichbooks.com