10-Story Detective Magazine, April 1946 — page 53: what you’re looking at

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

Savagely, Black-and-bulky lashed out with the gun. It struck Ole Man Money- hun’s round, grey head just over the left ear. He crumpled behind his counter... . Gees the dingy bulb suspended from the ceiling over Ole Man Money- hun’s cash. register, the gaunt face of the Sheriff of Cashaw Valley worked. It was now past midnight. Ole Man Money- hun, himself, had ’phoned the sheriff aft- er reviving from the blow on the head. “T’m sure the man’s from the valley here,” Ole Man Moneyhun was saying. “He knew I kept my money for the week here in the cash register. Also, he waa disguised beyond all recognition. He even spoke in a whisper.” “Tow much did you say he got?” asked the sheriff, FINGER THE PHANTOM oe ae ye ane oS “Around twelve hundred dollars.” “And you don’t think you’d be able to recognize him if he walked right in here now?” the sheriff said. “I'm afraid not,” admitted Ole. Man Moneyhun with a sigh. “The only thing I know about him is that the fingers of his left hand are sprained.” “That isn’t much. Unless they have swelled, you can’t tell whether a man’s fingers are sprained by looking at them. Say you bent them backwards?” “Yes. That was when he hit me.” “T’ll tell you what,” said the sheriff earnestly. “Tomorrow and next day I'll go visiting about the valley. If I see any swollen fingers, I'll investigate the cause thoroughly,’ “That might work,’ Ole Man Money- hun agreed, “Anyhow, that’s about aa COMmiclooo S CO