10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 38: what you’re looking at

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

% ; a a We 36—_—__—_____———10.STORY DETECTIVE———_—— He had on‘a pair of bright yellow pig- skin gloves. Steve swung down the steps of the building and headed home. Two blocks from headquarters he happened to look back along the street. The guy with the yellow gloves was staring fixedly at a window display a hundred yards behind him. That got Steve interested. He took five more glances over his shoulder before he reached the apartment. Yel- low Gloves was right behind him each time. Steve gave a mirthless chuckle, as ~ he realized the guy must be a private dick working for the insurance com- pany that had the policy on old Nor- ton’s diamond. That would account for his familiar face. Gail was in the front room of his apartment waiting for him, She swept chestnut hair from her eyes as he came in. “The door was open, Steve,” she said, “so I came in to wait.” He tried to grin, “And after all these weeks of coaxing, you pick a time like this.” She didn’t see anything funny. Her oval face was white and strained. He changed the subject quickly. “Who had Golden spring me?” “Uncle Jonathan. He wants me to bring you to him right away.” Steve started to break in, but she hurried on, “He realizes how badly we wanted to get married, Steve. He thinks that was why you did it. He wants to help you out of this, and then he’ll set us on our feet with his money.” Steve grinned bitterly. “But he wants his diamond back first, huh?” She nodded. “I tried to tell him you wouldn’t have it, but he sent me to get you.” She slid into her coat and headed for the door. “Talk to him, Steve. If you could convince him of the truth, he might keep Golden work- ing for you.” T WAS dark when they came out of the building. There was a cab idling at the curb. Steve steered Gail toward it, letting his gaze wander up and down the street. Yellow Gloves was standing in an unlighted doorway twenty yards away. The cab driver slid out of his seat and opened the door. Gail started to get in, then backed out. “There’s someone in here,’’ she said over her shoulder. “It’s all right, miss. Just climb in,” the driver said. Steve grabbed her arm and glanced angrily at the hackman. “We're not anxious for company, We’ll—” He stopped. The cabby had a black- snouted automatic in his hand! “Just climb in,” he repeated. “Both of you.” He pushed the gun into Steve’s ribs. Steve clamped down on the impulse to take a chance with the guy. With - Gail standing there, it was too dan- gerous, He pushed Gail into one of the folding seats and climbed in after her. There were two men inside, one in each corner of the rear seat. Each one had a gun in his lap. | The man nearest Steve was small, wiry, his face dark and amused under the brim of a black Homburg. Steve grunted in startled recogni- tion. “Joe Rinaldi.” Rinaldi was the boss of the outfit Ed had run around with for the last few years. Steve began to get a vague idea about why they had been: picked up. ; Rinaldi moved his neck inside his starched, white collar. “You know what we want, Steve. Hand over the diamond and you can get out here,” Steve said: “You’re not the first party to ask me that, Joe. And I’m giving you the same answer I gave the others. I haven’t got it.” Rinaldi leaned forward and spoke to the driver; then he swung back, “Kid was pretty close to us, and we knew pretty much what he was doing, For instance, we knew he was work- ing on this job and we knew he wasn%& the brains behind it. The cops could only go so far, Steye. But we don’t stop tili we get that diamond. See what _I mean?” .. ¥ ave r x a5 ¥ r - ; *; Se Re et = comicbooks wan o~. ——~ Pe of. as COr 1