10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 46: what you’re looking at

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

———__________10 STORY DETECTIVE—___— middle of the hot rails, raised his arms and yelled, , As the handcar came closer Slip recognized two of his friends among the section crew. He yelled, making the words sound excited, for it was necessary to impress the men that he had only that moment discovered the body. He pointed down the em- bankment as the handcar came to a stop a few yards away. “A — a dead man!” he shrilled, gray eyes wide. “I was walking to work. Just happened to look down the embankment and saw the guy’s feet sticking out from the honey- suckle. Must have been stealing a ride on the 6:31 freight and fell un- der the wheels. He’s cut all to pieces.” A cunning look came into Slip’s eyes. “Just a tramp: Too — er — bad a guy can’t settle down and — and work for a living like the rest of us.” As the four section workers nod- ded soberly Slip Dowst put slim fin- gers over his mouth to hide the grin. Did he have this bunch of hicks in Westview fooled! Only Police Chief Maddox knew of his probation. That was three years ago when a judge had recommended Slip be released from prison on probation provided he aceepted the laundry job in West- view. It was while reporting to Chief Maddox that Slip had first met Betty. It was the way the old police chief ‘was fooled that tickled Slip Dowst. Why, the old man actually believed in him! That was a real laugh. Slip wondered what Chief Maddox would say after that Riker jewelry box had been rifled— “What we gonna do, Johnny?” Jim Watson, one of the section men, asked slowly as they stood around the dead man. “We ean’t do anything for him, so guess we’d better lug the body on back—” “That's against the law,” Slip said quickly. “We got to bring Chief Mad- dox and the coroner out here, They pot to look at him to see that he real- ly was killed by the train, you know. Some of you boys ride on back to — = S _— — Sg Westview and get the coroner and Chief Maddox out here. “Jim, you and Tom Land, wait here. I’m going with the handear and drop off at the laundry. Don’t want to be too late for work.” Hiding his sly smirk, Slip Dowst climbed the em- bankment, He stepped to the handear and started pumping one of the han- dles. LIP dropped off at the laundry, only fifteen minutes late. His story about the dead man made him the center of interest the rest of the morning. During the lunch hour he hurried to the police station to see Chief Maddox. The old man, with forty years of small-town police ex- perience behind him, arched white eyébrows with his welcoming grin as Slip entered. His firm handclasp hurt Slip’s thin fingers when they shook. “Just wanted to know if there’s anything I can do, chief,” Slip said soberly, “Guess you’ll want a sworn statement of some kind from me, won't you?” “Yeah, Johnny, that’d be the law,” Chief Maddox said, tanned gnarled fingers stroking the white stubble on his blunt chin. “The dead man sure was cut up hy that train, wasn’t he? Too bad. Name was McGraw—Soup McGraw. Found a couple—er—let- ters in his pocket. Had quite a rec- ord, too. Safe blower.” His keen eyes studied Slip Dowst. “You — er — didn’t know him, did you?” “Know him?” Slip made his gray eyes widen. “Why, no, chief, never saw him before.” He simulated a hurt look. “Chief, you — you don’t think I’d have any truck with a yege—now, do you?” Slip’s gray eyes were down- cast. “Sure not, Johnny,” Chief Mad- dox said heartily, slapping Slip Dowst on his thin shoulder. “I trust you, man! It’s been a long time since I’ve thought of you as Slip Dowst! You’re Johnny to all of us here in Westview. Folks are beginning to like you, Johnny. A heap. You taking in- comicbooks (eo)