10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 89: what you’re looking at

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

DEATH TAKES THE BUS—————_———_—_87 | and got his job in the Lucky Ball. Shortly after that Mrs. Tim Wingate had arrived in town for the purpose of getting an easy Nevada divorce from the young Hollywood actor, Tim Wingate. Mrs. Wingate’s father, Jake Craft- man, who himself was a big man of money in Hollywood, had never ap- proved of her marrying an actor. He had arranged this divorce. Jake Craft- man knew about Joe, and he knew that @ young woman whose father was as rich as Jake would interest Joe Grail very much. So Drake Judson, ace man for the Paragon agency, had been planted where he could see what there was to see. Drake’s eyes were sharp-glinted, but his mouth smiled pleasantly. He said: “Don’t waste time asking me questions. You’re in a spot. Why not talk to me?” Meg evaded with a pretty shrug. “Talk to you! Why? I don’t know you. You worked in the Lucky Ball. So did I, We saw each other every day, but I still don’t know you.” “You smiled at me.” “Just courtesy. You smiled first.” URNING his head, Drake glanced through the darkened bus. Fhe driver seemed to be the only live thing in it. The entire coach was drowsing. He turned back to Meg and his whis- per whipped at her: “What happened to Joe Grail?” She whispered back at him fierce- ly: “It’s none of my business what happened to him. And you can’t scare ‘Did you see that note on Joe’s table?’ Her voice quavered: “Note! What note?” So she had seen the note! Drake said abruptly: “Tim Wingate showed up in Las Vegas a couple of days ago, didn’t he?” “Who + as “You know who. Tim Wingate. He came up to see his wife, Blaine. He didn’t want her to get that divorce.” “Why should I know about that?” Drake chuckled. ““Maybe you were just watching things—for Tim. May- be you saw something and sent word to Hollywood, to Tim, and so he came fast to Las Vegas. Maybe it was that way. Anyway, Tim arrives—and to- night something happens to Joe Grail.” Meg smiled. “I understand that Mrs. Wingate’s father, Jake Craft- man, also came to Las Vegas, just yesterday. Maybe that had something to do with what happened to Joe.” Drake said: “That’s not even good conversation.” Meg Larkin found a cigarette case in her purse. She offered one to Drake, He took it and politely offered her a light. . Then she said: “I’m too tired to talk, or fight.” “You might take a nap,” suggested Drake, with a wry grin. She sighed deeply. “Ah! I’d love that.” And she put her head against his shoulder. 3 Maybe, Drake thought, she was fak- ing. She was tired enough to go to sleep, but she didn’t want to; maybe she didn’t dare to. She closed her eyes and breathed, little irregular breaths. Presently the ridges in her breathing leveled off. It was like a rhythmic suc- cession of gentle sighs. Drake mut- tered: “So baby’s asleep! Poor kid! Hell, I must be getting soft.” The bus swept on. It didn’t take long to reach the California line. Drake caught weird glimpses of des- ert country in the dark outside. It would be cold out there; warm and comfortable in the coach, but brisk- ly cold in the high desert. He removed his topcoat without disturbing Meg and flung it in the corner. The first stop would be Baker, about one o’clock. But the coach didn’t wait until reaching Baker. It was slowing now, swinging in toward a little group of » lights. Drake kmew this road, knew. every spot on it. This was Yucca — aw cComichbooks (Eo)