10-Story Detective, September 1941 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

i4-—_————____—__10-STORY DETECTIVE come running if the cops hop on me. I may need you bad.” He watched them go, then turning toward the. desk, he sent three telegrams to Los Angeles. When they had been sent, he turned toward the elevator, rode it up to his floor and went down the hall to his room. CHAPTER If LLEN BURTON was sitting in the big chair beside the open window. Falkner looked at her, then he shut the door and tessed his coat ovto the bed. She said: “I bribed the porter to let me in. You don’t seem very sur- prised.” He shook his head. “I’m not.” He went across and poured water from the thermos bottle on the night stand. She shook her head when he held out the full glass, and he drained it at a gulp. “Now,” he told her, “let’s get down to cases. Just what were you doing in my office tonight? You expected to find your dad there, didn’t you? Some way he knew that I was meeting Durey.” She said: “No—” He crossed and pulled her out of the chair. “Yes!” They stared at each other. The girl’s eyes dropped first. ““You’re im- possible. You’ve changed.” His voice mocked her, but himself more. “Sure I’ve changed. This rot- ten town changed me. It killed my dad. He trusted it and the people in it. He loaned his money because they were his friends, and after he died they accused me of forging their names.” She pulled away. “I see it all now. You came back to get even.” His mouth twisted. “You wouldn’t believe me, would you, but I didn’t want to eome back. I never wanted to see the place again. A man doesn’t like to come back to a plaee he’s been meade a foo! m. I was ordered back, and when the boss gives an order we ‘snap to obey it.” She said: “But you were sent to protect the dam not to hunt Durey’s murderer.” He grimaced. “I was sent to pro- tect a man and his work, and the first thing I know he’s shot under my nose. I’m going to get the killers, sister, no matter who they are. Get that—no matter who they are.” She said: “And I came up here to warn you. You haven’t got a chance. They’re trying to revive that old in- dictment.” He looked at her, and his smile was a wicked, twisting thing. “Someone’s afraid of me, Ellen. That’s why they’re trying to drive me out, but let them try. Ill be here when the last horn blows, when someone is wearing a piece of rope for a hal- ter.”’ she shuddered and pulled away from him. As she did so the whole upper pane of the window fell inte the room, and a shot made noise through the quiet street. With a sweeping gesture Falkner’s big hand knocked the girl across the bed. She rolled over and went off on the other side. He twisted in the same moment and kicked the stand lamp over, shrouding the room in a dark- ness which was broken only by the red gl-w from the neon signs. He had no gun; the police still held it at the station. But he crept for- ward toward the window, keeping his big form hunched so that he was below the protection of the sill. He reached the window and peered out. HERE was an office building across the street, and no light showed from any of the windows. He couldn’t be sure exactly where the shot had come from, but he thought from there. Feet hammered along the hall then. and someone was pounding on the door. Falkner pulled down the shade, masking the broken window, then he crossed the room and opened the door. Conn Ghook (©