10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

ROGUES’ GALLERY HANGING—————-—__23 an old-fashioned political soapbox speech. At first it bored me, but presently he started taking picks on some Americans that I go for. In my view, when you pick on these guys you pick on America. “Lizzie,” I whispered. “Are the Kevy- nians on our team?” “Aren’t they?” “This Koynian isn’t talking that way.” “What makes you think he’s a Kov- nian? You can’t tell a Kovnian without a seore card.” | S he got madder, General Vadrag- no’s mustachios kept flirting around like scorpion feelers. “This plight that I find America in,” he hollered, “will lead to its ruin, and soon! You are bemg man- aged badly! Your currency has been de- based, so that all of you, my substantia! _ friends, must fight for your very wealth!” The rich zanies gave him a hand. But I had poured just enough of that Cali- fornian red on top of the Athenian’s bour- bon to feel a poor man’s urge to be impo- lite to the guest of honor. Muscularly impolite. I didn’t cotton to the idea of & guy with an aecent running down the government. “Personally, I’m as American as Elm Street,” I said aloud. I untangled myself from the floor, and started across the murky room for Gen- era] Vadragno. Lizzie Quinn scrambled up and threw a block on me. I hit the wood again. Nobody seemed to pay any atten- tion except Bakosh, who got up with a gesture of annoyance, and beckoned to us. He tiptoed down the hall into an ante- room. Lizzie and IJ followed him. “Mr. Nosegay,” Bakosh said, “I gave great news for you. General Vadragno has brought you a caryatid!” _ “Well, strike me blue!” I said. “For nothing?” “Of course not! For twenty thousand dollars. Cash.” “What's a caryatid?” His mouth dropped open as if I had seid a naughty word, Lizzie Quinn inter- jected hastily, “Don’t clown, Mr. Nose- gay. You know very well that a caryatid is a piece of sculpture.” “T saw one once that weighed a ton,” I said. “But twenty thousand bucks!” “It’s by Gubinsniak,” Bakosh said. “The greatest sculptor in all Kovnia. _ General Vadragno brought it with him.” — seme Ae “Just for litthe me? Didn’t it crowd the rowboat?” “It was in Mexico City,” Bakosh said disgustedly. He shrugged. “Never mind, one of the other guests will jump at the chance.” “And you’re faker enough to pluck him,” I said. Lizzie Quinn took my elbow firmly and led me into a corner. “You quiet down, Mr. Nosegay,” she whispered, “or Bakosh will throw you right out into Wingott Street.” I quieted down, I got sober as a bishop, too. My toes began to eurl and my shoul- der blades to crawl. The bullet-shooting “flask” under my arm felt as comfort- ing an an angel’s paw. “What's this house address?” I whis- pered. “Is it twelve-fifty Wingoit Street?” “The number was nailed on the door as clear as crystal.” “Tt wasn’t clear as crystal the way | first heard it.” Bakosh put a hand on my shoulder. “Nosegay,” he said, “I dont like your attitude. I don’t believe you’re an in- vestor at all. I think you’re a ginned-up bum, Now, clear out of here.” His brushy red mustache curled with artistic disdain. He placed a bony hand against my ehest and rammed me into the wall. He turned and started out of .the room, But I bounced off the plaster and chopped a right hand over his shoulder. It caught Bakosh below the ear. He crashed into the door frame. His long legs bent and he slid wordlessly down the door frame like a fireman down the brass pole, Lizzie Quinn said, “I hope you know what you’re doing?” ROM the rear room General Vadrag- no’s throaty voice raved on. But from the other direction, up the musty hall, other voices intruded. A _ flashlight sprayed over the dirty pane in the street door. I heard Sergeant Chesney saying, “Olimert, take Rains and cover the back.” Chesney was‘on the premises with a mop-up detail, All I could think ef was, No you don’t, Chesney! I saw bhese jokers first! Gen- eral Vadragno is mme, accent and all. “Lizzie,” I said, “how you betting on what we find inside of the general’s uni- form? Pardo or DelaDame?” GComicbooks (E(@)