10-Story Detective, November 1942 — page 66: what you’re looking at

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

64 I didn’t know it. What I told you about Druid transmigration of souls is the truth. Every book explains it. I brought them all back from England with me when I purchased the altar. I laughed, too, at first, but I don’t laugh now.” “Let’s be sensible about this,” Cot- ter broke in. “‘There’s no necessity for handcuffing Whitten or restraining him in any other way. I’ll stay with him, right by his side every moment, and if he starts acting funny, I swear I’ll slug him.” “Good,” Kerrigan grunted. He faced Mary Lee and made a strange state- ment in a low voice that was for her benefit alone. “You’re not doing so badly either.” Mary Lee turned pink and hastily walked to her own room. The door closed and Kerrigan heard the lock turn. He grinned and went down- stairs. Maguire was there, peering in- terestedly up at the stairwell and lis- tening to everything that was said. In answer to Kerrigan’s question, he replied, “No, sir—nobody could have entered the house. Last thing I did was lock all windows and double lock all doors. The only way anybody could have got in was by having one of us, already inside, open a door or window.” Kerrigan nodded and went out. He headed straight back to the cave where Keith was hiding out. The solu- tion to this strange case was rapidly taking shape in Kerrigan’s mind, but he also knew that all danger was far from past. He crouched and studied the cave intently. It seemed to be empty so he moved forward, entered it and drew his gun. Squatting far back in the shadows, he waited. Keith would re- turn here shortly. Half an hour passed before Keith appeared. He was running and dodg- ing from one bush or tree to another as though he feared pursuit. He en- tered the cave and Kerrigan grabbed him. He spun the younger man around 10-STORY DETECTIVE————— and pressed the muzzle of his service pistol] into Keith’s stomach. “Keep ’em up,” Kerrigan ordered brusquely. “I want that hardware you’re carrying about. Make one move and so help me, I'll drill you.” Keith groaned. “Okay, I know when I’m licked, but I wish I had an- other hour or two.” “For what purpose?” Kerrigan ex- tracted the other’s gun and dropped it into his own pocket. He frisked the rest of Keith’s clothing, founu noth- ing, but kept his prisoner firmly pressed against one wall of the cave. “To prove I didn’t kill Benson, even though he deserved to be killed. The man was a crook, the rottenest kind of a thief. I was sure of that even before you told us. Every time he passed a policeman, he ducked. So I got sore one night and mentioned something about telling the cops. Benson pulled in his neck.” “Did Whitten egg him on—about Mary, I mean?’ “T’d say so, even though I’m preju- diced. You see, Whitten and Mary in- herited some money a few years ago. Whitten manages her affairs, and I think he is afraid that if Mary and I! get married—well, I’ll naturally take over. It’s just a hunch, mind you, but he may be pilfering some of her mon- ey. He isn’t quite as wealthy as he pretends to be. I’m even afraid of what he’d do to Mary.” “Is that why you came here—to this island? With Mary?” Keith nodded. “You guessed it. Now look at the spot I’m in. What are you going to do with me?” “Well, first of all we’ll find a nice big tree and then I'll nandecuff you around it. Come on—and remember, this gun shoots straight and I pull the trigger fast. I’m still not sure of you, Keith.” “If you do that,’ Keith warned, “T’ll never have to stand trial for mur- der. I'll be killed.” “We'll see,” Kerrigan said. “Get go- ing.” DOOLK C©