10-Story Detective, March 1941 — page 48: what you’re looking at

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

HE night was wet and getting ; wetter. That’s how I happened to duck into the Lenox Street bus station and bump into the girl hurrying out. We seesawed, like peo- ple do after sudden collisions, each trying to let the other past. Then both of us stood still. “Oh,” the girl said. “Oh.” Her low voice held a frightened note. Murder—in the Bag Gripping Novelette By Thomas Lamar > I said, “I’m sorry,” and took off my hat. This girl was the kind you take off your hat to. Her face hadn’t come off a beauty shop assembly line. She was very pretty, with royal-blue eyes, and curls in her damp hair. She wore a light slicker, and there were tiny drops of water on her lovely cheeks. Hither she was crying or hadn’t been in the bus station long. I couldn’t tell which—then. COmiclbook CO