Avon Fantasy Reader No. 7 — page 120: what you’re looking at

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

116 ee | FRANK GRUBER after one. Damn, now he would catch it from Mr. Wilton, the office manager. He continued a little further down LaSalle then turned into a tall office building and rode up to the twelfth floor. As he entered the offices of the _ Arthur Grain Company he saw that it was eight minutes after one by the time clock just inside the door. He strode through the office toward the cloakroom. And there. just as he was about to enter, he encountered Mr. Wilton. There was a gleam in the office manager’s eye. “Ah, good oe Mr. Parker,” he said, sarcastically. “Did you have a sleasdue lunch at the club? Did you engage in a little bridge, perhaps... ?” John Parker reached under his coat and erduced the big pistol. Holding it by the butt he laid the long barrel along the left temple of Mr. Wilton. Mr. Wilton screamed and fell to the floor like a dead pigeon. John Parker stared down at the unconscious form of the office manager. He was aware that there was excitement all around him, that his fellow workers were rushing about. . “Parker laid out Wilton!” someone cried in a tone of awe. And another: “The worm turned; Jeez, Caspar Milquetoast conked the boss.” : It was true, bee to what an extent not even John Parker knew at that moment.-He only knew that something had happened to him. It was as if an iron chain that had bound his conscience all of his life had suddenly snapped. He was free. | Wilton had persecuted him a thousand times and at last Parker had struck back. Savagely .... yet he had no regrets. He finally = his head and looked around the circle ok ee that ringed him. “He had it coming to him,” he muttered. : “Yeah, sure,’ Doolin said. Doolin was the office bully. It was he who had put glue in Parker’s inkwell. And now he looked into Parker’s eyes and took a backward step. Beyond the immediate circle a voice cried petulantly. “Here, here, what’s _ going on? Are you people working here or are you just playing games?” “J. B.,” someone said and the office employees began to disperse, leaving John Pare: to face J. B. Arthur, the head of the firm. : “Here, you,” old J. B. snilsined: “Get back to—what have you done to Wil- ton?” A gasp. “What's that in your hand—a gun?” “Yeah,” said Parker. “You want to make something of it?” J. B. Arthur’s eyes threatened to pop’ from his head. “What’s that? You dare to speak to me like that—?” COME DOOXS.COnN