10-Story Detective, September 1941 — page 81: what you’re looking at

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

CRIMSON CURRENCY just wanted to discredit me. Jealousy, that’s what it was. He wanted the job for himself. He couldn’t stand seeing anybody get ahead of him. That’s the kind of skunk he was. He didn’t care if they sent me to prison for a hundred years so long as he had his own way. I started to say something, but I never got the words out, because at that moment the war broke out. First a single shot, then a burst from a ma- chine gun, rapid, staccato, like some lethal tap dance. They cracked through Midvalets early morning still- ness, shattering the remnants of everybvody’s nerves. Newbold’s jaw was hanging slack, Mr. Crimmons’ face looked like scraped bone. The two deputies stood motionless, impaled by shock, gulping. My heart was pounding away like a trip hammer. And then Sheriff New- bold took off like a scalded cat. He was out of that bank, racing away in the direction of the shots before any- body else moved. I wanted to go my- self, but Jim Pyne, one of the deputies, jabbed his gun against my ribs. They tried to guess what had hap- pened. I didn’t have to guess. I knew. And when the sheriff returned every- thing I’d figured was confirmed. His big face was a little dazed and there was a hurt tone in his voice. “Why didn’t you tell me, Ed, instead of the G-men? I could have taken Marty McCloud as well as anybody.” ‘“Wh-what!”’ gasped Mr. Crimmons. “McCloud! Where?” “He’s dead. Ed here tipped the G- men off so they could catch him at Chris Jaeger’s place. Chris had picked the safe clean as a hound’s tooth yes- terday and had the money up in his room. Ed knew all about it. He used it to bait McCloud. Then he got in touch with the government boys. =——79 They’ve got Chris. He’s the only one that ain’t dead.” Mr. Crimmons stared at me in- credulously. I thought I ought to tell him what happened. ‘You see, Mr. Crimmons,” I said, “Marty McCloud came in here a few days ago to open an account. He was disguised, but I recognized him. Gosh, I ought to, we lived together for ten years. He’s my stepbrother. I was afraid if he held up the bank maybe you or somebody would get hurt. “So I followed him outside and told him about Chris’s plan to rob the bank. I told him it would be safer to go after Chris. I wanted him to get caught. I don’t like all this killing his boys have been doing. So I got in touch with the FBI and told them every- ththe.” Deep red flushed through Mr. Crim- mons’ face. He was sore as a gumboil. “You knew all about it,” he yelled, and I thought he was going to have apo- plexy. “And you let my safe get blown up. You’re fired, Ed. I don’t ever want to see you again.” I gaped at him. It’s funny, but in all that excitement and anxiety to cap- ture Marty McCloud we'd clean forgot about the time bomb. Anyway the im- portant thing was the bankroll and every cent of that was recovered. Things moved along pretty fast after that. Chris got what was coming to him. He may be better looking than me, he may be slicker with the girls, but I’m just as smart any day. And I guess Mr. Crimmons will have to give me back my job. After all I got to sup- port Ethel. Say, you ought to see her now. We just checked into this hotel on our honeymoon and she’s blushing like a mackintosh. Yes, sir, I wish Chris could see me now. Ccomicooolk (©