10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 78: what you’re looking at

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

-——————————10-STORY DETECTIVE open and a cold night breeze chilied him Sophie was watching him intently. “Okay!” he said. She turned the key, pulled the door open a little. Felice Fancone appeared through the doorway, moving as gracefully as if she were moving onto the stage, and fearlessly. “Run!” shouted Algie. She sprinted toward him. Almost at once, Parsons and Ar- mand started to push after her. Fran- tically Sophie billowed forward, try- ing to hold them back. “Out to the car!” Algie urged Fe- lice, as she reached him. He stood his ground while she ran past. Sophie was hurled backwards. Parsons and Armand broke into the yoom, guns out. Parsons’ face was livid. He didn’t stop for questions. His gun spat flame at once. The woodwork just above Algie’s head was splintered. Algie fired—missed. OPHIE was down on her knees, clinging to Parsons’ legs. “I don’t want to die!” she screamed. Parsons cursed and kicked her aside. He fired again. Pain shot through Algie’s left shoulder, and he was swung half about. He steadied himself, took aim, fired. He missed Parsons, but the shot did something to Armand. The gunman, just getting ready to shoot, looked surprised for a moment, then, with- out a word, sank at Parsons’ feet. Algie felt as if he, too, were going to sink, But he knew Felice would be waiting for him, out there in the car. And somehow he had to get Felice home. He steadied his arm again, just as Parsons snapped the trigger twice, in quick succession. Algie knew that he had been hit, but he couldn’t tell where, because nothing seemed to impress him any more. It appeared to him that he was al- most blind. Parsons’ big figure, there across the room, was just a blur. But he took aim at that blur deliberately. He heard Sophie screaming again, Screaming at the top of her voice. But the scream was smothered very soon. It was smothered because the blur which had been Parsons had pitched over on top of her. Algie knew, then, that he could go. But it seemed ‘to be difficult. “Come,” said a gentle voice, very close to him. He knew it was Felice, although he couldn’t see her. He had told her to go out to the car, but evidently she hadn’t. They were out in the night air now, and she was walking with him, her arm about him, and it was very Sweet. “Geez,” he said, “you’re beautiful!” She was talking to him: “T’ll drive—” “No,” he said, “T’ll drive. I got to drive you—home!”’ He felt his hand on the cold wheel. And then he started to dream. The dream was very much like the one he had had before. He had just rescued _Felice from Parsons and a lot of go- rillas. Blood was streaming down his face. Felice was bending over him, and he was telling her he loved her. And then he woke up. Some one had kissed him, It was Felice! He was lying in a bed. Felice was bending over him. He was awake and he knew that it was true. She smiled at him. “Why did you do this—for me?” she asked softly. — It was hard work, but Algie smiled. Now was the time. Now was the time for telling her about how much he loved her. Then he noticed that there was a young man with her. He stood very close to Felice, holding her hand. “Why,” she said again, “did you do this—for me?” Algie’s arm was weak, but he waved it with a brave care-free motion. His voice was weak, too, but the words came out of his mouth through smil- ing lips: . “It was just a gag, lady. Just—a— Gomichooks (C@