10-Story Detective, March 1941 — page 68: what you’re looking at

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

66———__—_———_————__10-STORY DETECTIVE——————— him back into the crowd. Gil lunged, shoved the cop out of the way, and sprang up the steps of the house. The policeman roared, “Hey you!” and leaped after him. Gil gained the entrance. He bumped into a giant of a man in plain clothes who was just coming out. Gil gripped the man’s sleeve, panted, “H’ya, Glenn? Tell this flat- foot I’m okay, will you? He wouldn’t listen to me!” Inspector Glenn scowled at Gil, and grudgingly said to the cop: “It’s all right. Get back there and hold that crowd.” Then the inspector took Gil by the arm and urged him into the house. “You’re just the baby I been looking for, Fenton. There’s something smells in this whole business, and you’re the smart boy that knows all the answers!’ “Sure,” said Gil. “I know all the answers. Any time you’re stuck, just ask me. Only suppose you tell me what’s happened around here?” Glenn looked down from. the height of his six feet two to Gil’s measly five feet ten, and said: “‘Noth- ing’s happened. Nothing—at—all!’’ He piloted Gil into the living room, and Gil gasped. The living room looked like a temporary field hospi- tal. Stacy lay stretched on the sofa, groaning, while a white-coated in- terne wrapped a bandage around his head. Sloan, one of Gil’s operatives, sat in the easy chair while another interne taped his arm. The body of the Chinaman whom Wayne had killed was still on the floor next to that of Krell, the secretary. Both were covered now. Gil’s other operative, Joe Baird, was standing by the couch trying to help the interne bandage Stacy’s head. Joe Baird had his right trouser leg rolled up above his knee, and his leg was plastered up with gauze and adhesive tape. Inspector Glenn let go of Gil’s arm and said: “Well?” Gil said: “What was it, Joe, a raid?” : Joe Baird turned from the couch and grinned sheepishly. “Just that, boss. The Chinks took us unawares. I was in here with Wayne, and Sloan was outside at the door. Stacy, here, was keeping Wayne and me company until the morgue wagon came for the stiffs.” “So what happened?” Gil asked impatiently. “So the first thing,” Baird went on, “we heard a battling around at the outside door, and a shot. So I get up to take a look-see. Just at that minute three wild Chinks bust in here. with a sawed-off shotgun, and let fly without a single word. It got us all except Wayne who was sitting in that chair over there, out of range. Then when I was on the floor with this stuff in my leg, I tried to go for my gun, and one of the Chinks cov- ered me. So I had to lay there while they dragged Wayne out.” Gil’s eyes were smoldering. “‘Nice!” he grunted. ‘‘Fine protection we gave Wayne! What happened to him?” Glenn coughed. ‘“‘They took him away in a delivery truck marked, ‘Fancy Groceries.’ There was an alarm out for the truck inside of five minutes, but it did no good. We found the truck down on the West Side, abandoned. They must have switched to another car.” Gil asked: ‘‘Did Wayne have that jade figure on him?” Baird shook his head. He took the two pieces of jade out of his own pocket. ‘“‘No. He had given them to me to hold. And the dopes never stopped to make sure he had them. I guess they were a little nervous, even with the riot guns.” Gil snatched up the two parts of the jade figure. His eyes glinted. Glenn growled at him, ‘Look here —what’s this all about? Where were you while this was going on?” Gil laughed mirthlessly. ‘Where COmiClool CO