15 Story Detective, April 1950 — page 54: what you’re looking at

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

54 15 Story Detective He didn’t answer her. “Barry, look at me!” Slowly he lifted his eyes, seeing first the small, squarish capable hands, then the severe tailoring of the suit, her fragile throat above the froth of white waist, the stubborn chin he loved and the- direct eyes, sherry-brown, almost the precise shade of her hair. “Laura,” he said. ‘Laura, I—” “You promised, Barry. You promised to get out of town. I told you you have to get out of town.” “Run, Laura? What’ll they say then?” “No more than they’re saying right now.” “Why did they have to do it to me? Why?” . “Barry, please.” He shook his head slowly. “I can’t run, I’ve got to stay. I’ve got to figure it out. I’ve got to know why. Besides, where would I go? What would I do?” “You’ve' saved money, Barry.” “T’ve been saving it for us.” “This is for us, Barry. Anything for you is for us. Go to Chicago. Get a room there, Barry. Go to movies, read, do any- thing. Date a girl if you have to. But don’t think about all this.” “T can’t stop thinking about it. When I think about it I want to go out and kill Stackie Coults. He lied, Laura. He lied like hell.” “Barry, I know he lied and you know he lied. Maybe there’s a few others that still believe in you. But you could count us on one hand. Killing won’t do any good.” 7 His smile was grim. “My good pals. Good old Barry. How’s everything, Barry. That’s the way it is one day. The next day they want to spit on me. Why did they do it to me? I wasn’t in any- body’s way, was I?” She glanced toward the bar, leaned toward him and lowered her voice. “One of the people who still believe in you, - * Barry, is Kyle Benedict, the sports editor. We had a little talk. He thinks there’s more to this than meets the eye. And he thinks you ought to go away for a little while. And—I didn’t want to say this, Barry darling, but it isn’t easy for me, on the paper. All'the cats have their claws sharpened.” “Tf I could just prove,” he said dully, that it was a frame. If—” “Don’t talk nonsense, Barry!” she snapped. “Don’t try anything foolish. This frame was arranged by experts. Every last detail.” She dug in her purse and took out the ticket in the railroad envelope and put it next to his hand. “Chicago,” she said. “There’s a train at six this evening. That gives you two and a half hours to pack and be on it.” He studied the envelope for a long time. Then he pushed it back toward her. “They give you refunds on these things.” “Barry!” “T’m sorry, Laura. That’s the way it is. That’s the way it’s got to be. I can’t run. What was I? A pro fullback. They turned me into. nothing, just like that. Smart Barry. One more year, I said, and then we’d have enough to take a little coaching job. Clean Barry McBride. A credit to the coaching staff of West Whoosis Tech. They hit that in the head, Laura. They hit that in the head.” “Don’t be bitter! It hurts me inside to hear you like this.” “Am I bitter? I hadn’t noticed. May I have this dance?” “Barry!” “T’m sorry, Laura. Why don’t you run along ? Being here with me isn’t deing you any good.” “T’ve got to go back to the news room, And you’re going to walk me there.” - “Am Fe” “Yes, Barry. You are.” She stood by the door as he paid his check at the bar. The bartender gave him change from a dollar and said, loud Gomichbooks © =)