5 Detective Novels Magazine Cover — page 102: what you’re looking at

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

102 “Hail or snow, I’ll take on both of you rats,” I said easily. “How about it, greasy puss? Pick up your gat if you want to play.” Borda nursed his bleeding knuckles. “Now, take it easy,” Hale said. Ryan clumped out of the door and stood there, looking sick. Hale poked out his hand. “My old pal! Long time no see, Ryan.” “We been looking for you,” Borda said. “So it’s come to this.” He pointed at me. [ still had my gun out, ready for action. “Then it was Claire, after all,” Ryan muttered, sort of dazed. “Claire, all right,” Hale answered, chuckling as sympathetically as a coy- ote. “Sweet kid. You might have known she’d get lonesome out here in the sand dunes. You’re awful dumb, Charlie.” He chuckled. “Is this the way to treat your pals, Charlie?” UT he backed toward me, and I frisked him. He didn’t have a rod. It looked like Borda was the guy to watch, after all. I picked up Borda’s rod and pocketed it. “Want them herded to town ?” I asked. When Ryan shook his head, Borda winked at Hale. “He’s glad to see us. We got messages from home.” “That’s right,” Ryan admitted glumly. Seeing those two skunks holding him over a barrel, I was all for quitting. When a man won’t take your help, how can you do anything for him? “All right, mug, you’re fired.” Hale took out a silver case and fished for a smoke. “Charlie doesn’t need you any more.” That was Ryan’s business, but Hale’s crack was strictly mine. : “T was paid in advance,” I said. “I’m earning it.” I reached and snagged the cigarette case out of his hand. Before he could move, I tossed it up, drew, and drilled it with a slug. Hale and Borda blinked. “Now, if you gents are staying, I'll give you a hand with your baggage,” I said. “I’m Honest John Carmody, in case you didn’t get the name the first time.” “The pleasure nearly overwhelms me,” Hale grunted. FIVE DETECTIVE NOVELS MAGAZINE He was sore about his cigarette case, but Borda just shrugged. He didn’t seem to mind my having his gun, and that was something I couldn’t understand. After supper, which I fixed up, I mixed a rye and soda and hung around in the living room. It was all glassed in like a sun parlor and it was over the garage section. When I found a blind spot where I couldn’t be sniped, I sat down to read and smoke a cigar. I picked on the living room because it was across the hall from Ryan’s room where the pals were in a huddle. : They weren’t talking loud, and that was a bad sign. I couldn’t hear enough to do me any good, though I gathered it was about money, Tulsa, running out, and debts on the cuff. Once Ryan poked his head out. Hale, the horse-faced guy, was right at his back. He gave me a dirty look. ; ose mug don’t have to listen, does e ? ”? “It’s handy having him there when I want a bottle or something,” Ryan ex- plained in a hurry. “Have him bring us a couple and get the hell out!” Borda snapped. I took that smiling and got two fifths out of the case in thé kitchen. I shook out three trays of ice cubes. The fourth one jammed, so I had to use the big butcher knife I fished out of the sink. It was a bit rusty, but it felt heavy asa sword. Naturally I stuffed a fifth into my own pocket. When. I came back, Hale looked sociable. “Get yourself a bottle, too. No hard feelings. Hell, you just did your work this afternoon.” ; I showed him my side coat pocket. “I already got one.” Borda grinned. “Drink deep but make sure you wake us up early.” I guess my face fooled him and Hale. Theirs didn’t fool me, though. When I got to my room at the far end of the hall, I took one tiny snort. Before any- thing happened to Ryan, they’d try to cool me first. Blankets are good for more than just to sleep under. I wadded mine up, did some tricks with the table lamp. It was a gag with whiskers on it, but it’s the old ones that work. That’s why they last long enough to get old. Anyway, MICLOO CO <S) (C(O)