Pulp Fiction, 1939 · page 69 of 116
10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 69: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page 67: "Classroom Sleuth" This page contains story prose from what appears to be a mystery or crime fiction narrative. The text depicts a dramatic scene in Captain Andrews's office where forensic evidence—fingerprints from a gun—proves pivotal to a case involving a young boy named Johnny Cushing, a dead Professor Crayfield, and a suspect named Joe Mills. The lab report revealing three sets of prints on the gun creates a turning point; Johnny's deduction about Mills wearing a thin rubber glove that tore, leaving identifiable palm prints, solves the mystery. The passage ends with Johnny leaving, determined to excel academically and become a city manager someday, while Miss Hutch watches hopefully. An illustration of a figure on horseback appears at the bottom.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
You can’t pin it on Professor. He’s dead! You can’t say he did it!” Captain Andrews said gently: “We're only trying to save your life.” “T don’t care!” yelled Johnny wild- ly. “You can’t make them think Pro- fessor Cray—” “What did I tell you?” broke in Miss Hutch shakily. “Captain, is he the kind of boy that will grow up into a good citizen or not?” Captain Andrews blinked, blew his nose. He leaned back in his chair and stared out the window. Over his shoulder he said: “There is no other way. Mills wore a glove. We'll never hang him. Your fine boy will never have a chance to grow up into a citi- zen. I’m afraid.” There was a light tap at the door. “Come in,” said Captain Andrews in a choky voice. A man in white apron stepped in, laid papers on the desk. ‘‘The lab re- port on the gun prints, captain. There were three sets of prints.” Captain Andrews almost jumped out of his chair. Miss Hutch screamed. Johnny sat dead still. “Three” barked Captain drews. “Yes. Professor Crayfield’s com- pared post mortem, Johnny Cushing’s and Joe Mills!” Captain Andrews An- stared. ‘Joe CLASSROOM SLEUTH 67 Mills! Why, that’s impossible! John-- ny said Joe Mills wore a very thin rubber glove. He put it on in front of Johnny—” “It’s a peculiar print, a section of palm,” said the lab man. “Frag- mentary, blotted out in portions by some halfmoon-shaped matter, yet nonetheless positively identifiable through pores and—” “T know!” cried Johnny. “The plate on the gun butt was broken and there was a jagged edge—” “That's right,” nodded the lab man. “And when he held the gun, the thin tight rubber must have caught and pulled apart a little, allowing his hand to touch the gun.” “That’s it,” admitted the lab man. Miss Hutch sobbed as she crushed Johnny to her scrawny, dried bosom. Johnny pulled away roughly. “I—I want to go home and find my books,” he muttered. “I—I got to get back to the head of the class. I’m gonna learn all I can and maybe some day—” Captain Andrews clenched his fist, tried to look hard-boiled. Miss Hutch’s eyes shone. “That’s it!” she whispered. ““Maybe-some day we’ll get the best people together and have a city manager!” Her eyes continued to shine hope- fully after Johnny as he went out, head high. GComicbook (C@