10-Story Detective, November 1942 — page 64: what you’re looking at

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

62—______—_———————10-STORY DETECTIVE on the side of the rock. Kerrigan looked up at the top of the crude altar. He rapped the handle of the blade against the stone and followed it com- pletely around. There were no hollow noises, nothing to indicate that some- one might be concealed within the big stone. He looked up toward the top again. “Give me a boot up,” he told Whit- ten. “And remember, I have a knife and gun. I'll haul you up afterward if you wish.” Whitten nodded, helped Kerrigan to the top, reached up with both hands and Kerrigan dragged him on top also. They squatted there while Kerrigan gently passed his hand over the sur- face of the altar. He noted that some of the crevices seemed to have been carved into the stone and pointed this out to Whitten. — Whitten said, “Yes, they were cut into the altar for a specific reason— to let the blood of the sacrific drain off. Kerrigan, I can’t stand this any longer. I’m afraid. Afraid of the Druid spirits and of myself. This is an altar of blood. The sacrificial moon is high. If the Druids will ever appear, it is tonight.” “Cool off,” Kerrigan advised. “Nothing will harm you, and now that we are alone, there’s a question I’d like to ask. Two of ’em, in fact. Do you think Keith killed Benson?” “Yes. He had the motive—his shirt was bloodstained. And if you check the murder knife in Benson’s heart, you’ll find it belonged to Keith or car- ries his fingerprints.” “The knife?” Kerrigan grunted. “This knife which fell off the top of this altar is the same one which killed Benson. The blood on it is dry and I -recognize the handle. I’ll check for prints later. Now for the other ques- tion. It concerns your cousin. Did she invite herself to this shindig or did you ask her here?’ Whitten looked startled. “I—why, she asked to come, cf course, Said she always wanted to see the island, and I had no objection. What are you get- ting at? Or wait—I can guess. You think Keith knew Benson was coming, too. That he wanted a crack at him in a place where no one could interfere and where he might get away with it. “Perhaps you're right. Yet I insist that Keith didn’t do this of his own free will. He admitted being out of the house last night when Benson was killed. I think Keith is possessed of one of those Druid souls. What he does isn’t of his own volition.” “Pulling that rod on us was,”’ Ker- rigan said crisply. “Okay, Mr. Whit- ten. If you want to leave, it’s all right. But I’m staying until dawn, I’ll either prove or disprove these Druid ghosts.” Whitten nodded mutely and _ slid down the side of the rock. He van- ished into the night. CHAPTER IV THE HUMAN GHOST ERRIGAN realized that simply waiting at this altar for things to happen wouldn’t get him far. Therefore, he started walking rapidly toward the north end of the island where Whitten had indicated that oak trecs and mistletoe bushes grew. Ker- rigan moved warily. There was still young Billy Keith to remember. He was armed, practically proven a kill- er, and might attack swiftly and with- out warning. Kerrigan found the oak trees and noted with considerable interest that small, low branches had been torn off the tree. He located the mistletoe bushes, too, and they’d been likewise stripped of branches. There was a gradual slope to the left, and Kerri- gan moved toward this. Halfway up it, he found a small, shallow cave. He didn’t dare use his flash until he was weil inside the cave, and even then he shielded the lens so that only a tiny ray of light emanated. On the dirt floor of the cave he found the branches which had been ripped off the oak trees and the mistletoe bushes. Here was the spot where that garland cComiclbool C©