10-Story Detective, March 1941 — page 32: what you’re looking at

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

30—____—_————————-10-STORY DETECTIVE lights? Put ’em out! Quick! You’ll have—” He sprang across the room to a wall switch, threw it over. The lights stayed on. He ran back across the hall, flung up another switch. Still, the lights did not go out. “T didn’t turn ’em on,” said Law- ler. “They just went on. All of ’em. Let’s get the hell out of here. They'll see these lights all over the valley.” “Okay,” said Kane. “Let’s see the ice.” Mechanically Lawler extended his hand. Kane lifted the Sanford neck- lace from it. His eyes fastened greed- ily on the glittering stones. Lawler, shifting nervously, said: “Come on. Step on it, Kane. Let’s get. going!” HIFTING the necklace to his right hand with his automatic, Kane started for the door. He reached for the knob, turned it. Then sud- denly the door swung in without warning, crashed against Kane, fling- ing him back. Behind him Kane heard the sound of thudding footsteps and knew with- out turning that Lawler had fied. Two men, followed by a girl, flung themselves into the room. The men held automatics trained at Kane’s middle. Kane’s gun-hand jerked up. “Steady, Kane. Don’t be so damn jumpy,” said the man in the lead. He was a big man with his overcoat col- lar drawn tightly about his throat. His face was broad, clayish yellow. His eyes were small, close-set and quite bright now as they bored into Kane. “Hello, Fred,” said Kane evenly. He held his gun trained at the man. “Why, hello, Slats—Alicia. You gave me a start. It’s damn dangerous busi- ness—busting in a door like that.” Fred peered hard at the glittering necklace in Kane’s hand. He said in a deadly even tone: “It’s a damned sight more dangerous to double-cross a pal, Kane.” Kane laughed harshly, kept his eyes glued on the trio: “So what, fel- lows? You tried some crossing, your- selves. You skipped out here ahead of us and tried to pull a fast one. Bumped off old Quinn—” “Damn him,” interrupted Fred. “Bumped off the old guy,” con- tinued Kane. “You had the jump on us. If you didn’t get the ice, then it’s just your tough luck.” “Yeah,” Fred snarled. “Quinn fussed up the detail. Steered us to a phony plant. He got a little tough—” “And you beat it before examining the phony stuff Quinn handed you,” said Kane. He smiled grimly. “That’s about the way of it, bright boy,” snapped Fred. “But what you know ain’t going to help you any. You—” Then an amazing thing happened. The lights which had been blazing brightly through the house, winked out—all of them—dquite suddenly. The house was pitched in darkness. For a space of five seconds, silence. Dreadful silence. Kane, now dangerously grim, dropped to the floor—just in time to escape a hail of lead that swept above him, that tore into the rear wall of the room. And before the racket died away, he had frantically rolled across the floor, through the open door into the next room. | Rather unconcernedly he wondered where Lawler was. He felt sure that Lawler had run out on him. The heel! But if he hadn’t, and if he had failed to drop when the lights went out, then Lawler would be lying there on the floor—dead. Kane smiled. He stuffed the necklace into his coat pocket. Lawler would never share in the proceeds of this haul. Kane was sure of that. On the floor behind the door, Kane listened for a telltale sound in the adjoining room. But there was only silence. He leveled his automatic to where he judged the front door ought to be. If they were still bunched there —Slats and Fred and Alicia—Kane squeezed a stream of lead from his COPNICLOOOLK< (©)