10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 58: what you’re looking at

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

Me ty 1A b ’ pi Lint Me it SAS Wee AUN Bees Oe te aM alii) a) oO 4 a ” Rw pW ne nN SAE ‘ PL CY Ma | verb ] ey iA \ i y i : ‘ Thy “A ‘ 0 | arg “iy Pe ae ie = ey oe ei ane fs " ey eh , | “NG f } | I’m afraid you'll do I know you're really a detective?” - Jarvis showed his badge. “Then have to. stick around, Mr, Walker. It’s possible that you did see Collins. That you knew he was dead when I met you in the hallway. Now wait—lI’m not saying you're guilty. Maybe we ought to make an image of you and put it in the palms of that Aztec god down at the museum.” “How did you know about that?’ Walker sat down slowly, looked up and saw the dangling form of the dead man. He hastily shifted his chair so that he couldn’t gaze at the grisly thing. ARVIS reached into his pocket and took out the handkerchief- wrapped stone head. Before he ex- hibited the thing, he asked a signifi- cant question. “Walker, you’re pretty well known as a sculptor, aren’t you?” “Sculptor? Me?” Walker frowned. “You must have obtained your infor- mation from someone who doesn’t know me. I can’t even draw a tri- angle and make it look like one. What’s this all about?” Jarvis unveiled the stone head. Walker stared at it, jerked his head around and looked at the corpse. Then he went perfectly white and slumped deeper into the chair. “T—I don’t understand,” he said in a plaintive voice, Jarvis told him—every circum- stance he knew. “Now, there were originally five men who owned the museum. Kent and Collins are dead. I’ve met you. Whe are the other two?” “Why—Willard Post, of course. He’s president. Then there is Douglas Granville.” “Get on that phone,” Jarvis or- dered. “Call them and get them down to the museum. If they refuse to come, I’ll send men to haul ’em down, They are to be there in twenty min- utes. ” ~ Walker made the calls and Eaten the protests of See — by telling what had happened to — Kent and Collins. Jarvis called for help then, waited until it arrived and © told a headquarters squad to check © very carefully for clues to murder. He took Walker by the arm and piloted him toe the elevators. They drove to the museum. Jarvis rang the bell again. Bolts slid back, the door. opened and Jarvis pushed his way inside. Suddenly he realized that | he had made a mistake, This wasn’t Gorman who admitted them. The big door closed with a bang. Jarvis reached for his gun a split second too late. He heard Walker cry out in fear. There was a thud. Somebody hit the. floor and it must have been Walker because his cries were cut short. Jar- vis tried to penetrate the darkness as he reached for his gun. Something hit him alongside the head. A vicious blow meant to smash his brains out if it landed properly. He sank to both knees, half stunned. Reaching out, he grasped two legs and pulled hard. The man tried to free himself, but Jarvis clung fast. He suddenly let go, hurled himself to | one side and rolled over a couple of times. During this activity he man- aged to draw his gun, but in the in- tense darkness there was no target. He started to arise. The silence was broken by the jangle of a bell. Some- one was at the door. Jarvis half turned around. He knew his feet scraped against the.smooth floor. That sound must have given away his location because the unseen killer . came at him with a savage rush. Again that weapon, whatever it was, sailed down. Jarvis fired twice. Then the club slammed home, against the back of his head. He dropped flat. Not entirely unconscious, he felt hands going through his pockets. He felt the stone head removed and then, vaguely, he heard a banging on the door and distant footsteps cComMAg in his direction. The lights were on when he came. =: as me Gt