All-Story Detective, October 1949 — page 106: what you’re looking at

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

106 hand pawed over it, and he battled this feeling away. Surely his eyes were de- ceiving him? There wasn’t any ape. Blane evidently hadn’t noticed a thing. He prodded Milt’s back with the revolver, a flashlight in his other hand. They tramped through the night, with Blane guardedly shooting little spurts of light ahead, turning it off quickly each time. They went down that sharply slanting hill and the air grew moist and cool. CHAPTER FOUR Stick to the Garage, Chum RESENTLY the big pine loomed p up before them. The ghastly thing that it had supported was gone. He and Blane shared this darkness together— spreading like a warm, star-studded pool, melting into the tree. Milt clenched hts teeth, listening for the quickening of Blane’s rasping breath, waiting for him to flash the light once more—then he saw the pitchfork on the grotnd. Blane saw it too, grunting, sweeping the light back and forth. “I told the boys to leave everything alone; just take the body away.” Milt thought of Johnny, probably the kid had been afraid to come down here alone and get the pitchfork when he heard where they had left it. “We'll have a look at that in a minute,” Blane said hoarsly. ‘“‘Let’s see what’s in the shed.” He motioned with the light. “That way.” It was a rickety lean-to with a staple in the door that hadn’t seen a lock for a long time. It creaked loudly when Milt pulled it open. The yawning keg of rusty nails was the first object to meet his eyes as Blane followed him inside, sweep- ing the light in a circle. There was some _ gunny-sacking ; a pile of rotting oranges in one corner, roaches. scuttling for the walls, and a large hunk of raw meat that looked All-Story Detective like it had been torn and twisted, gnawed by sharp teeth. Blane gave a muttered exclamation. “Looks like we’ve stumbled on something. Slater’s killed a bear last week over in the pineland. Now what d’you suppose would be hungry enough to tear into a hunk of it like that? Does an ape eat meat? I wonder—.” “I still don’t believe in that ape, if that’s what you’re gettin’ at,” Milt said shakily. “And I still say you’re a fool! Haleck ain’t bluffin’ about that thousand doffar reward. Look! Over in that corner. ...” Milt jerked, but kept his eyes on Blane, suspecting it was a neat trick to distract his attention. He wasn’t falling for it. Blane pushed by him impatiently. In that instant Milt started to reach for his revolver, but Blane swung around too quickly, and he paused. Blane kicked a heavy maul with his foot. “Looks like your theory is pretty near correct. Here’s what they could have used to pound that pitch- fork into the pine.” Milt nodded, eyes hard and wary. Blane caught the look. “And you think I used it, huh?” “T’ll admit it doesn’t make sense, you bringin’ me in here to look at it.” “You been thinkin’ all this time that I brought you down here to bump you off. You’ve got nerve—I’ll say that. Even if you did have that gun under your shirt, an’ been waitin’ fer the right chance to grab it.” Milt stiffened. Blane pushed forward, holding ‘his re- volver ready, reached in and jerked the gun from Milt’s belt, tossing it in a corner. “I’m too old a hand, Clark, at this game. I spotted that rod before we ever left Haleck’s.”’ “Okeh,” Milt grated. “So you’re a smart guy. What did you bring me down here for ?”’ “Because I think you murdered Joe. COMicloOoe S (©