10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 98: what you’re looking at

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

9}—________—————_10-STORY DETECTIVE Gilmardy’s face, however, bore a worried look, for Gilmardy had been the unsuccessful opponent of the Ghost on past occasions and he was well aware of that gentleman’s elu- siveness. “Got your pistol, Keith?” queried Inspector Gilmardy, after Mrs. Cran- ther had disappeared beyond the bend in the polished mahogany staircase. Keith nodded, and a few moments later he found himself alone in the study. The inspector took up his post in the darkened library, leaving the connecting doors between the two rooms open. Keith was guarding the approach, and Gilmardy was guard- ing the library, the room where the jewels were ensconced in a flimsy wall eafe. A brief smile flitted across Winston Keith’s features as he slipped into a dark’ shadow and took up. his lonely vigil. All was silent throughout the great house as Keith waited motionlessly in the dark. The silence did not bother him in the least, for he was well used to dark silent places. His nerves were steady, and his breathing low and reg- ulated as he picked out the dark sil- houettes of the massive furniture scat- _ tered here and there in the semi- gloom of the somber study. HE very oppressiveness of the in- tense silence rasped on Inspec- tor Gilmardy’s keyed-up nerves. The faint snapping of timbers in the old house, the swishing of draperies, the distant chirp of crickets, the whirring purr of a passing motor’s exhaust and the many imaginary sounds of a silent night beat against Gilmardy’s tortured sense as he awaited tensely in the darkened library for the coming of the Gray Ghost. Gilmardy had few doubts as to whether the Ghost would appear or not. He was positive that he would. His only qualms were as to whether or not the Ghost would be too smart for them. Then Gilmardy smiled as he thought of Winston Keith waiting in the next room. Keith, and the open door be- tween the two rooms. It would be a smart man that would succeed in get- ting by Keith. Gilmardy remembered that Keith had caught others as clev- er, if not more so, than the Ghost. “Stout fella, Keith,” the inspector muttered to himself. Then, settling down in a more comfortable position, Gilmardy started going over his men- tal dossier of the Gray Ghost. When, the Inspector asked himself, had the Gray Ghost started his depre- dations on the “Jegal lawbreakers” of London? He guessed it was with the robbery of the bank cashier who had decamped with the funds of one of the branches of the “Commercial Indus- trial Bank.” Yes that was it. He had robbed about every successful robber since then, and on two occasions when the police had got wind of the where- abouts of stolen valuables, they had arrived only to find that the Ghost had beaten them to it. The Gray Ghost was notorious for his ability to theorize the cor- rect solution to robbery mysteries from the accounts found in the papers. He usually arrived at the correct solu- tion just a few minutes ahead of the police, and he never returned any of his loot, for he robbed only robbers and swindlers, It was because of this very fact that the police could get no adequate descriptions of his identity. The Ghost’s victims, if any of them recognized him, which was highly im- ‘probable, dared not squeal without putting themselves in decidedly em- barrassing positions. As for reprisa!s of their own—they were all informed that he, the Ghost, kept a very unpleas- ant diary. Blackmail? Perhaps. Pre- cautionary measures? Most decidedly. Yes, Gilmardy decided, the Gray Ghost was clever. Devilishly so. Inspector Gilmardy didn’t get much time to think further on the bitter, yet enticing subject of the Ghost, for at that instant the silence was shat- tered with a resounding thud, fol- lowed by a muttered curse, and the crashing slam of an overturned chair Gomichbooks (C@)