Gunman’s Hate by Col

by Monte Herridge

  “Malloy! Come out with your hands

  G-man’s mouth.

  up! You’re cornered and surrounded.”

  Hastings spat blood, closed grimly

  For a moment there was silence to the attack once more. Like a pounding within the house, the stark silence of piston his fist hammered again and again complete and utter surprise. Then, like the into the evil face of Malloy. Then of a

  roaring of a bull, came Malloy’s call to sudden the gangster gave a swift and

  arms.

  mighty wrench of his gun-hand.

  “It’s the heat! Get out that tommy

  gun. Let ’em have it! Blast ’em or we’ll all FOR a fleeting instant Hastings’ grip was be dead men!”

  loosened. Malloy’s wrist tore away. His

  A machine gun stuttered from gun hand was free!

  without in answer to Malloy’s challenge. In Hastings saw the thirty-eight move,

  another instant the tommy belched forth a saw the muzzle come up. Desperately he

  chattering answer. The night was hideous swung his right again. This time every

  with sound. The shouts of men merged

  ounce of his strength was behind it.

  with the sharp clatter of the small arms.

  It smashed full on the point of

  Relentlessly the besiegers closed in

  Malloy’s jaw even as the thirty-eight

  on the house. A stinging thread of fire

  exploded. He heard the bullet whine past crashed against the tiny window of his ear. Then the weapon clattered Hastings’ cell. Shards of glass tinkled to impotently to the floor.

  the floor. Then, of a sudden, he again heard Malloy’s knees buckled. He fell

  the mighty voice of Malloy, raised above grunting at Hastings’ feet. The G-man

  the din of the fight. “Hold ’em off with that snatched up Malloy’s fallen weapon, raced tommy! I’ll settle that rat who double-into the living room. He saw a bending

  crossed us—”

  figure over a tommy gun. He raised the

  Heavy footsteps raced across the thirty-eight, fired. The gunner slumped, his floor. Hastings heard the lock turn in the deadly weapon stilled.

  door of his cell. Swiftly he made his way to Men raced on the porch outside,

  the side of the door, stood there motionless.

  poured into the room. Those of the Malloy The door pushed open. Gun in hand, mob who yet lived backed against the wall.

  Malloy charged into the chamber.

  Their hands were raised above their heads.

  Hastings leaped at him. His right

  Mitchel, chief of the Division,

  fist hammered against the killer’s jaw. His entered the room behind his men. His face left seized the thirty-eight, tried to wrench lit up as he saw Hastings.

  it from the other’s grip.

  “Good work,” he said. “Garnett

  A single shot spat from the barrel,

  figured it for us.... All right, boys,” he said ate an ugly hole in the floor. Malloy had to his men. “Round ’em up. Where’s

  reeled back from the blow, yet he did not Malloy? Where’s Norcross?”

  Gunman’s Hate

  7

  “Upstairs,” said Hastings. “In the

  code in it, I was certain of that, for a while.

  attic. Better get him out right away.”

  Then, when I put it under the microscope, I Mitchel issued an order to a got it.”

  subordinate. It was Garnett himself who

  “Got what?” roared Malloy.

  brought up Malloy, still blinking, half

  “It was between the lines,” Hastings

  dazed, yet conscious. Hastings grinned at said. “Literally between the lines. I marked his partner.

  those black lines on the paper with the

  “I knew you’d figure it,” he said.

  point of the pencil. I did it in Morse code

  “Hell,” said Garnett. “I can figure

  with dots and dashes. Of course, inasmuch any code you can write!”

  as the pencil lead was the same color as the Malloy stared at them dully. lines they weren’t visible to the naked eye.

  “Code?” he said. “What the hell are you

  But I knew that if Garnett couldn’t figure a talking about? I dictated that note myself!”

  code out of it he’d use a microscope.

  “Tell him, boys,” grinned Mitchel.

  Which he did. It was easy enough to read

  “Well,” said Garnett, “I knew there

  them.”

  was something phony because of the

  Hate blazed in Malloy’s eyes. He

  backhand. I didn’t know what, but that

  roared a fearful curse which ended in a

  backhand said out loud to me, ‘There’s a shattered sob. Roughly they dragged him

  message here somewhere, if you can find

  away.

  it.’ It took me some time. There was no