10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

60—_—__—_—_—_—_——_———-10-STORY DETECTIVE in two years and you having this great honor, I’m about the happiest wife and mother in all Maplewood.” Johnny was too excited to notice the tears irrigating her careworn cheeks. He rushed to city hall and was ad- mitted to Mayor Harrigan’s august presence by a respectful secretary. Johnny’s heart thumped as he shook hands with Mayor Harrigan, the ideal of all the political science students. Miss Hutch always referred to him in a hushed voice. Out of respect and awe, Johnny had always thought. The early morning sunlight was re- flected by the mayor’s friendly, bald dome; his lips, big enough to be called flabby in an ordinary man, greeted Johnny with easy comradeship. “So you’re the new mayor, eh? Ha, ha! Going to take my chair right away from me, eh? A better man than I am, Hunka Chin! Ha, ha!” He leaned down and patted Johnny on the back. Johnny was straight and serious. If the pun on Gunga Din was just a little feeble for so great a man, he excused it at once as having been a sincere attempt to make a young, inexperienced boy feel at ease in these juxurious surroundings. “Thank you, Mr. Mayor,” he said. “T’]] do my best, but I know I’ll wish you were at my side, coaching me every minute.” “Well put! Well put! Er—I’ll be going now. Some one waiting to have a word with me. Take over, son.” OUNG Johnny settled into the big chair whose leather upholstery had pleasant warmth from the big man’s body. He stared dazedly at the row of white buttons and the list of official appointments. One item on the list stood out in caps: Council meet- ing at eleven A. M. Johnny’s heart thudded. Presiding over a council meeting made up of students from his class! He wished it could be postponed to the end of the wonderful day, like the dessert of an enchanting meal. Johnny’s finger shook as it ventured toward one of the magic buttons which would call a secretary, hurrying to do his bidding. He pulled it back quickly, staring at the door through which the mayor had disappeared. Voices were raised sharply. “Who do you think you are, Harri- gan!” a rough voice rasped through the panel. “Damn it, you better get something on Crayfield fast. He won’t come across. That bus franchise has got to be killed.” “Chief, I—’ Johnny recognized Mayor Harrigan’s voice. He sounded upset. “Don’t gimme any alibis, Harri- gan,” rasped the voice. “You been stalling on Crayfield. You can that guy right away or I’ll smash you as fast as I made you.” “But, chief, I’m trying to tell you—” The voices drifted away. Johnny sat perfectly still. He was trying to recall all his lessons. He couldn’t re- member any city official called ‘‘chief” who gave orders to the mayor. The mayor was supposed to be tops. Johnny sat quietly, fine lines of per- plexity railing his brow. Finally he pushed one of the white buttons timid- ly. A secretary appeared. “Who is the chief?” asked Johnny. “The chief?” The secretary frowned and a peculiar light shone in his eye. “Yes, the chief. Is he some kind of official?” “Oh, no,” said the secretary. “TI guess you mean—No, he isn’t a city officer.” “Then why does Mayor. Harrigan call him chief?” persisted Johnny. The secretary’s brow clouded. “I think you would be wise, young man, not to pry into affairs which do not concern you. Such matters are per- sonal and are not included in the duties you take up here today in your hon- orary capacity as mayor.” “But,” dogged Johnny, coloring, “when a man talks to the mayor the way this chief talked, it seems to me he’s got something to say.” GOomichbooks (C@