10-Story Detective, November 1942 — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

SATAN’S smiled at Daconi, and then at Little John. Little John noticed that he kept one hand in his coat pocket. Louis let them in and gently closed the door. “John,” said Daconi, “‘this is my pal, Louis.” Little John gazed at Louis blank- ly. “All right,” he said. “But where’s the job?” : Louis laughed softly. ‘“‘Right this way,” he said. They walked through an unfur- nished dusty room and up a dingy stairway. In a moment they were in a bedroom. On a bed a girl was lying. She was, so far as Little John could see, a pretty girl, with brown eyes. Her ankles and arms were tied with rope, and there was a cloth about her face, so that she couldn’t talk. Little John stared at her. Then he started toward her. Louis stood in his way, and he stopped. “Wait a minute,’ Louis said quietly. ‘‘Leave her—” “But it is not right,” Little John said stolidly. He started forward again. Louis’ hand came out of his pocket. A gun pressed against Little John’s side. “Better do as_ Louis _ says,” Daconi said from the doorway. “If you don’t, it’ll be too bad for you— and for the girl, too.” John hesitated. ““But the job,’”’ he said. ‘‘Where’s the job?” Louis stepped away from him, sat down on the bed, still facing Little John, with his gun on his knee. Daconi closed the door and came in. He said soothingly: ‘“That’s right. You do the job the way we want it and everything’s going to be okay.” He looked at his watch. “The boss is about due. You can start your job now. Pick up the little lady.” Little John stood in deep thought. He glanced slowly about him. Louis was still fingering his gun. Daconi, too, now had an automatic in his hand. PAY LOL Abruptly, Little John strode to the bed, reached down his massive hands and lifted the girl in his arms. She was helpless, and seemed like a baby cradled against his chest, but he had never seen so much de- flance in anyone’s eyes. “Okay,” Daconi said sharply. ‘“‘We go out the way we came in.” Little John went down the stairs and out of the house again. Daconi went ahead of him, and Louis just behind him. It was quite dark now. They moved cautiously around to the side of the house, into a narrow driveway. A large touring car was waiting there. Tyson was in it. They all got in. The girl was sit- ting beside Little John, leaning against him. He wanted to tear her bonds from her, but he knew that these men would take such a move- ment as a signal to harm her as well as him. They drove away, down through the neck of the peninsula. The men sat easy, yet tense, and silent. Lit- tle John lost track of time. They drove for hours, south, close to the coast, the headlights carefully dimmed. There were times when Little John could hear the surf beating against the shore. It was very late when the car turned into a rough road, and then across a field. Presently it stopped. Tyson spoke: “Okay, boys.” They got out. A cold sea breeze swept in on them. They were on a high bluff. Far below, and out to- ward the west, Little John could see the movements of the water in the moonlight. YSON spoke to Little John, and his voice seemed hushed. “Here’s the biggest part of your job. There’s a beach down below here—nearly a thousand feet down. There’s a narrow footpath over the bluff, and it’s damn near straight down. You carry the girl.” Again, the girl was in Little CO lOOOLK C@