10-Story Detective, September 1941 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

10——____—————-10-STORY DETECTIVE standing was that you would never come back.” Falkner’s mouth tightened. There’d been some notes in his father’s safety — deposit box. Those notes had been signed by several prominent Sheldon men. The court kad held them to be forgeries, and the blame had gone to Guy. They’d let him off because of his age.. He said: “So you’re going to bring that up?” Burton spread his hands. “Under- stand, Guy, Pm only here to warn you for your own good.” Falkner’s mouth twisted. “Like you had Ellen warn me on the train—” Burton’s mouth looked like a closed trap. ““We will leave my daughter out of this. The very fact that the World Detective Ageney hired you proves that it is not a legitimate company. We won't tolerate its presence in Sheldon. There will be no effort at terrorism of our citizens because they oppose the dam.” Falkner said: “You’re a little late opposing it.” Burton told him harshly: “Our ap- peal is still pending, but that’s not important. I’m here to suggest that you leave town, otherwise the police will move against you on the old charge.” He turned and walked to- ward the door. Falkner followed him out, stood by the secretary’s desk until Burton had gone. She asked: “Trouble?” He moved his big shoulders. “That old coot ran me out of town once. He’s trying it again—’’ He broke off as the phone rang and reached across to pick it up. Pete Durey was on the wire, and: he was so excited his voice wavered. “Listen, Falkner. I just found out something. Be in your office at nine tonight.” The instrument clicked be- fore Guy could answer, and he hung up slowly. The girl raised her “More trouble?’ He shrugged and looked at his eyebrows. watch. “It’s six. Come on, I need food and a shower.” She stood up. “I need a swim. ’'m going down to the river with a couple of girls from the Y. W. Better come. One’s a blond.” “From the Y. W.—” She said: “Don’t be snooty. This one is swell.” “T’ll take a rain check,” he told her. “I’ve got business tonight.” An hour and a half later he turned into the Sheldon Grill. His rather coarse dark hair was plastered wetly to his head, and his broad good-look- ing face was red from the heat. In the restaurant fans beat steadily, stirring up the hot air. He ordered a thick rare steak with lots of lettuce and thousand island dressing. OISTURE made a beaded line across his ferehead and he wiped it away. His order had hardly been delivered when a man came over and slid onto the stool at Falkner’s side. The man was in plain clothes but copper was written all over him. He took a badge from his vest and slid it onto the counter. “McCosky. Headquarters.”’ Falkner squinted at the badge and went on eating. McCosky’s little eyes, lost in the fat flabbiness of his cheeks, were on Falkner’s steak. His mouth almost watered. “I’m here to do you a favor, palo.” “Whe sent you? Burton?’ McCosky looked aggrieved. ‘“No one sent me. They’re building a fire under you on that old rap.” Falkner cut another large piece of meat and transferred it to his mouth. “Better have some. Good.” The fat man swallowed twice, and little rivulets of perspiration jiggled down his nose. ‘‘Can’t. I’m on a diet.” He seemed very sad about it and sighed when Falkner finished and drained the iced tea glass. “You going to leave?” he asked Guy. Falkner rose and motioned for his check. “No.” He found a crumpled CONNMUG NOOK C©