15 Story Detective, April 1950 — page 75: what you’re looking at

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

Nightmare Highway the same time. Puzzling over this, Sam painfully opened his eyes wider. Why were handcuffs on him? He stared up. “Be still, you murdering skunk!” a big trooper spat at him. ‘Too bad that bullet didn’t find your black heart.” “Bullet? What bullet?’”? Sam asked in bewilderment. He tried to sit up but sank back to the cold ground with a shrill cry of severe pain. He looked at his right shoulder. It was thick with blood. He looked around. The truck was gone. Only the sedan was still there. His own rig had been moved over to the shoulder. UDDENLY a familiar voice raised in surprise reached him. ‘‘What’s going on here, officer.” Sam gazed up with a be- fogged stare. Road inspector Bob Emery stood looking down at him. The burly trooper’s square jaw hardened. “That rat shot and killed a trooper.” “T didn’t! Where'd you get that noise.” Sam heard himself protest dully. He turned appealing eyes on Bob. The road inspector knelt beside him. “Honest, Bob, I didn’t. A guy shot the trooper from that Sedan when the trooper stopped a truck. I saw it. Then I was hit on the head and—and—that’s the last I remem- ber.” “A likely story,” sneered the burly trooper. The wailing of an ambulance sounded faintly in the distance. “What proof have you that he isn’t speaking the truth,” demanded Emery. Wearily the trooper crooked a finger at a short, neatly garbed man in gray. The man stepped forward eagerly. ‘Here is an eye witness—”’ “That's the guy that shot the trooper from the Sedan!” The fog was clearing away from Sam’s brain. He tried to rise to his feet. But he couldn’t. He sank back again. ‘Him and the skinny truck driver did it.” The husky trooper merely glared con- temptuously at Sam. “Tell him what you 75 saw, mister.”” He indictated Bob Emery. “T came around the bend in my car,” the eyebrow mustache wiggled like a black caterpiller, as the short man spoke. “T came upon this man,” he interrupted dramatically to point an indignant finger at the prone driver, “standing beside his truck.” Suddenly he pulled a gun on the trooper who evidently was placing him under arrest. The trooper pulled his gun in a flash and fired at the same instant as this man did. The trooper fell, but his bullet struck his killer in the shoulder.” “Then I leaped out of my car and struck the armed man over the head—the impact of the trooper’s bullet had knocked him down and the risk wasn’t too great. Then I flagged down a passing car and had the highway patrol barracks informed while I stood guard over this—this—murder- er.” “That was a very brave and risky thing to do, mister. He coulda plugged you too,” the burly trooper said admiringly. The little man shrugged his shoulders modestly in acknowledgement. The ambulance drew up with a final screech of its siren. Silently the body of the dead trooper was placed on the padded stretcher. The bare hands dangled mutely over the sides. An angry murmur welled from the growing mob. Sam was jerked to his feet and gruffly ordered to get in. Bob Emery followed the ambu- lance in. The trooper brought up the rear with the little man in the patrol car with him. Once in town, Bob Emery phoned Jim Lamb and told him what had happened. “Stick to Sam until he’s completely cleared beyond all doubt,” Jim Lamb or- dered. “Swell guy, Jim,” Bob whispered as he hung up. “Sure sticks to his men when they’re in trouble.””’ Sam had been placed in the hospital under guard. Emery hur- ried over to the police laboratory. Lieutenant Fox silently nodded to Em- EOPMICLOOO KS (E@)