Avon Fantasy Reader No. 7 — page 121: what you’re looking at

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

me THE GUN : 117 | Parker smiled crookedly and advanced upon J. B. The president of the Arthur Grain Company was too astounded for a moment to even move, but when he saw the gun in Parker’s hand come up he let out a shriek that could have been heard down on La Salle Street, and whirling started for his private office in a headlong rush. : 3 : : 3 Deliberately, Parker brought up the ancient gun. He squeezed the trigger and was not surprised when the gun thundered and a pane of ground glass crashed in the door of old J. B.’s private office. | Arthur screamed again and diving into his office, headed for the lavatory. Gaining its comparative safety he locked himself inside. : But John Parker did not pursue. He was no longer interested in J. B. Arthur, or anyone connected with the Arthur Grain Company. He stuck the old revolver under his coat once more and sauntered out of the’ office. Outside, he walked to Clark Street and caught a northbound street car. _ - Fifteen minutes later he alighted at Lincoln Park and walked four blocks west _ and a half block south, finally turning into a dingy three-story brick building. He entered a door and started to climb a worn flight of stairs. When he was halfway ‘up a woman came out to the landing on the\first floor and called to him: : : : "Oh, Mr. Parker, I just wanted to remind you. You forgot the rent.” Parker turned slowly. “I didn’t forget it.” | | “Then you can give it to me now. Seven dollars for the half month, you know.” | : Parker said: “Go to hell.” : Mrs. Leonard, a stout, motherly-looking woman blinked and then gasped. “What did you say?” : Parker repeated the phrase then turned and continued climbing tothe second floor. He walked down the long dark hall until he reached the last room on the left-hand side. He opened the door—it was never locked—and switched on the electric light, for it was so dark in the room a light was needed even in midafternoon. A man was sitting in the creaking rocking-chair that stood next to Parker’s bed. It was the man from the auction rooms, the unsuccessful bidder for the old dragoon pistol. : | As Parker entered, the man rose from the chair and towered over Parker. _ He was no more than six feet tall and weighed perhaps a hundred and ninety - ~ — connie ooolkks.conn