All-Story Detective, October 1949 — page 97: what you’re looking at

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

Bodies By Night All except Milt averted their eyes. He was staring at the handle: of the pitchfork. Mrs. Parker, who, for ‘all her one hun- dred ninety pounds weight, carried her- “A fine | lot. It takes nerve to stay down here in self with dignity, sniffed loudly. the dark with—” She lost confidence and her voice dwindled. They ail looked at the pine tree. “That’s so . . It’s gettin’ Revered Bouth ae hastily. best go.’ dark,” “We'd Johnny started to follow the rest, paused, “What you lookin’ at, Milt?” Milt handed him the groceries. “Here. Hold these a minute.” He went up and laid: hold of the pitchfork handle. “Hey!” Johnny whispered, aghast. Milt jerked, but the tines didn’t budge. The reverend hadn’t been faking. ‘You remember that, kid,” he said. “No man could jab a pitchfork that hard in a tree, let alone through a man’s body too.” “That ape-man must be a whopper!” Johnny breathed. Milt looked at him sharply. “You mean you've never seen it? I thought you hung around a lot out at Haleck’s winter quarters?” “Yes. But I never seen Moe. That’s what they call the ape-man that’s got away.” “Where did they keep him?” Johnny shrugged. “Moss Gearhardt had charge of him— just got the job a few days ago. Then Moe escaped. I don’t knew what kind of a cage they kept him in. An ape-man is really a gorilla, ain’t itr Guess so.” Milt replied. “I'll take those groceries. Joe’s been drinkin’ probably, and I better get up to the house and see if Ma’s all right.” “Let’s get outa here.” Tohnny agreed fervently. ‘‘They’s a lake down back of these woods and that thing may be lurkin’ around.” Milt touched the pitchfork again; fin- 97 gered the end of the handle. Then ‘he turned abruptly and followed Johnny. “You zo on to the garage— it’s getting a iate. l’m going home. . The church bell began tolling as Milt picked his way through the gloom, cover- ing the two long blocks to Abbot’s place. This would bring everybody on the run. They'd probably band together there for | protection once the news of this outrage spread. In the darkness he made out the | blurred outline of the china-berry tree that stood in the front yard, and turned up the path that skirted around back. The house reeked of gin. Joe Abbot lay Ma Abbot leaned — on the kitchen flocr. over a washtub, slowly, bending up and down. Milt shook his head, feeling a sudden lump in his throat. It was always like this. Nothing good ever really happened to the Abbots. He walked in through the open screen door, twisting a limp cigarette to the other corner of his mouth. “It’s hot,” he remarked, dumping the sack of grocer- ies on the table that stood in the center of the room. “Shut the screen,” she reminded him. “And don’t tell me that the window ain’t got none. Joe’s gonna fix it Sunday for sure.” Milt smiled wryly. “He get drunk and start cussin’ you again?” She sighed and rested her elbows on the edge of the tub. “He don’t mean nothin’. He’s good to me when he’s sober. I’d methodically 2? rather have a man like that than the other. way around, wouldn’t vou?” “How should T know?” Milt acl by the older man and slapped the lined, sod- den face. Joe Abbot mumbled incoherently and turned over with his face against the wall. ‘Leave him alone, Milt. It’s cooler there than in the bedroom. What’s doin’ down town? T heard the bell ringing. You gettin’ the fidgets again, or are you gonna stay on with us?” COMmMiclooe S (© in