10-Story Detective, March 1941 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

didn’t mind the weather, for hard work had toughened him. But he was afraid that Tiere might not take up that option. Tiere might not buy the farm for the sake of the oil he thought was on it, and give Mc- Kenna that ten thousand dollars. Steve McKenna wanted that money very, very much. McKenna reached Tiere’s before he was aware of it. He saw a huge, pumice building with the sun on it, the windows glinting like mica specks. J — Pe “ vty “A oe ot Some distance short of a sharp turn in the corridor on the tenth floor, Mc-. Kenna paused outside a door bearing Robert Tiere’s name, and the rather scant information: DEVELOP- MENTS. Down in the corner of the ground glass, in smaller letters, was the word: Exploitation. McKenna went in. The girl had just sat down at her typewriter with a paper cup of wa- All his life Steve McKenna had been shadowed by a jinx. But now his persistent nemesis had caught up with him. For, in one dau, he became a corpse bodyguard—hell-bent for the morgue. We orth fe f,\= ' Bb , The lawman’s gun spouted hot lead. ter. She lowered the cup below the level of her desk, and smiled. ¥CKENNA liked the smile on her wide, soft mouth, and he ripped his hat off. She had soft, warm brown hair, and large gray eyes. Her figure was good, substantial, nothing fragile or sickly about her. He sensed at once her gaiety, deep down, like the bub- bling infeed to a spring. GomiGchdooks (C@