10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

Keating followed Giles out through the narrow cigar store to the street. “T told you to leave me alone.” Giles whirled on him. “Sure, Pll leave you alone. I’ve al- ways felt sorry for bums.” Giles clenched his fist and lunged at him. A woman stifled a scream, caught her companion’s arm and edged round where she could see things better. Men ran out of the cigar store, and there was a knot of spectators before Giles’ first swing was completed. Keating caught the fist, gave Giles’ arm a. fast twist, and spun Giles against the crowd. Men and women backed frantically; Giles stumbled out to the curb. 7 “You dope,’ Keating whispered fiercely. “You got to make yourself look like a small-time hoodlum? Get in that car.” Giles flushed, the bags under his eyes turned black, his eyes glittered murderously. But Giles got into the car. Keating drove a few blocks, pulled to the curb. “Things are getting tough, eh?” Keating took a cigarette, offered Giles one. Moodily, Giles nodded slightly, started to take a cigarette, then pet- tishly slapped the package away. “I know where I’m going to get plenty more. You mind your business, Keating, and—” Giles started to get out of the car. Keating kicked his ankle, caught his arm and pulled Giles down on the seat. “If you think your next bankroll is coming from fixing Jake’s boy, you’re crazy, Giles. Now you can go. That’s what I wanted to tell you.” ILES’ face puffed, then turned to a sneering grin. “You wait- ed an hour for that! You— Look, Keating, nothing’s going to stop me. Nothing! I don’t know who asked you to put your nose into this, but you better get it out.” BULLET BANDWAGON =o Keating threw the cigarette through the window. “You know how I feel about threats.” Giles’ shaggy eyebrows went up. He edged closer to the door. “Forget it, Keating. I wasn’t threatening you. We never been any- thing but friendly .. .” “But you’re fighting for your very existence now.” . “That’s right.” Giles stared at him with a sharp intake of breath. “Don’t make any mistake, Keating. ’'m not afraid of you or anybody. Things are tough, don’t crowd me.” Keating felt stopped. There was no use arguing with Giles on any level save Giles’ own. The man saw things with am eye that estimated profit and loss in money, not in anything else. If Plummer won the fight tomorrow night, Plummer’s prestige would damage a valuable champion’s. That was how Giles saw it. Keating realized that Giles thought his efforts to make a deal with Jake or Plummer were reasonable enough. The way Giles would see it, Plummer had nothing to lose but time. Chuck the fight tomorrow night, let the champ ride along as a tough guy with no contenders worth getting excited about, and the champ could put on a couple of exhibition matches that would pull gates and offer good op- portunities for betting. Keating shift- ed the attack. ““T’ve séen it happen to others, the way it’s hitting you, Giles. You thought you were one of the big boys, but you’ve discovered that what they say still goes, and that you can scrape by only. when they let you. Right?” Giles didn’t answer. The skin crawled under his eyes, his mouth worked as though he wanted to deny it, but knew the-senselessness of tell- ing a lie like that. “Okay.” Keating shrugged. “You’re cleaned out, Giles. You know why, and so do J. That’s lesson number one in discovering that you’re not one of. the top ten. The boys at the top gave COMMICOOOKS (C@