Jackson’s back. Jackson was knocked forward into Jodie just as Jodie was rising from his campstool. Jodie was pinned against the wall.
Following close behind, Grave Digger shouted, “Straighten up!”
Coffin Ed sealed up the open doorway with his cocked .38 and echoed, “Count off!”
Slim jumped to his feet with his hands elevated. Hank sat frozen with his hands on the desk top. Momentarily shielded from the detectives’ guns by Jackson’s body, Jodie punched Jackson twice, hard, in the belly.
Jackson grunted and grabbed Jodie by the throat. Jodie kneed Jackson in the groin. Jackson backed painfully into Gus. Gus grabbed Jackson by the shoulder to keep from falling, but Jackson thought Gus was trying to hold him and twisted violently from his grip.
In a blind rage, Jodie whipped out his his switchblade knife and slashed open the sleeve of Jackson’s overcoat.
“Drop it!” Grave Digger shouted.
Red-eyed with pain and fury, Jackson kicked Jodie on the shin as Jodie drew back the knife to stab at him again.
Imabelle saw the poised knife and screamed, “Look out, Daddy!”
Her scream was so piercing that everyone except the two detectives ducked involuntarily. It even scratched the casehardened nerves of Grave Digger. His finger tightened spasmodically on the hair trigger of his pistol and the explosion of the shot in the small room deafened everyone.
Gus had ducked into the line of fire and the .38 bullet penetrated his skull back of the left ear and came out over the right eye. As he fell dying, Gus made one more grab at Jackson, but Jackson leaped aside like a shying horse, and Jodie grappled with him.
Jackson clutched Jodie’s wrist and tried to swing him about into Grave Digger’s reach, but Jodie outpowered him and backed Jackson toward Grave Digger instead.
Taking advantage of the commotion, Hank snatched up a glass of acid sitting on the desk. The acid had been used to demonstrate the purity of the gold ore, and Hank saw his chance to throw it into Coffin Ed’s eyes.
Imabelle saw him and screamed again, “Look out!”
Everybody ducked again. Jackson and Jodie butted heads accidentally. By dodging, Slim came between Coffin Ed and Hank just as Hank threw the acid and Coffin Ed shot. Some of the acid splashed on Slim’s ear and neck; the rest splashed into Coffin Ed’s face. Coffin Ed’s shot went wild and shattered the desk-lamp.
Slim jumped backward so violently he slammed against the wall.
Hank dropped behind the desk a fraction of a second before Coffin Ed, blinded with the burning acid and a white-hot rage, emptied his pistol, spraying the top of the desk and the wall behind it with .38 slugs.
One of the bullets hit a hidden light-switch and plunged the room into darkness.
“Easy does it,” Grave Digger shouted in warning, and backed toward the door to cut off escape.
Coffin Ed didn’t know the lights were out. He was a tough man. He had to be a tough man to be a colored detective in Harlem. He closed his eyes against the burning pain, but he was so consumed with rage that he began clubbing right and left in the dark with the butt of his pistol.
He didn’t know it was Grave Digger who backed into him. He just felt somebody within reach and he clubbed Grave Digger over the head with such savage fury that he knocked him unconscious. Grave Digger crumpled to the floor at the same instant that Coffin Ed was asking in the dark, “Where are you, Digger? Where are you, man?”
For a moment the speechless dark was filled with violent commotion. Bodies collided in a desperate race for the door. There was the sound of crashing objects and shattering glass as the floor lamp and cocktail table were overturned and trampled.
Then Imabelle screamed again, “Don’t you cut me!”
A rage-thickened voice spluttered, “I’ll kill you, you double-crossing bitch.”
Jackson lunged toward the sound of Imabelle’s voice to protect her.
“Where are you, Digger? Speak up, man,” Coffin Ed
Following close behind, Grave Digger shouted, “Straighten up!”
Coffin Ed sealed up the open doorway with his cocked .38 and echoed, “Count off!”
Slim jumped to his feet with his hands elevated. Hank sat frozen with his hands on the desk top. Momentarily shielded from the detectives’ guns by Jackson’s body, Jodie punched Jackson twice, hard, in the belly.
Jackson grunted and grabbed Jodie by the throat. Jodie kneed Jackson in the groin. Jackson backed painfully into Gus. Gus grabbed Jackson by the shoulder to keep from falling, but Jackson thought Gus was trying to hold him and twisted violently from his grip.
In a blind rage, Jodie whipped out his his switchblade knife and slashed open the sleeve of Jackson’s overcoat.
“Drop it!” Grave Digger shouted.
Red-eyed with pain and fury, Jackson kicked Jodie on the shin as Jodie drew back the knife to stab at him again.
Imabelle saw the poised knife and screamed, “Look out, Daddy!”
Her scream was so piercing that everyone except the two detectives ducked involuntarily. It even scratched the casehardened nerves of Grave Digger. His finger tightened spasmodically on the hair trigger of his pistol and the explosion of the shot in the small room deafened everyone.
Gus had ducked into the line of fire and the .38 bullet penetrated his skull back of the left ear and came out over the right eye. As he fell dying, Gus made one more grab at Jackson, but Jackson leaped aside like a shying horse, and Jodie grappled with him.
Jackson clutched Jodie’s wrist and tried to swing him about into Grave Digger’s reach, but Jodie outpowered him and backed Jackson toward Grave Digger instead.
Taking advantage of the commotion, Hank snatched up a glass of acid sitting on the desk. The acid had been used to demonstrate the purity of the gold ore, and Hank saw his chance to throw it into Coffin Ed’s eyes.
Imabelle saw him and screamed again, “Look out!”
Everybody ducked again. Jackson and Jodie butted heads accidentally. By dodging, Slim came between Coffin Ed and Hank just as Hank threw the acid and Coffin Ed shot. Some of the acid splashed on Slim’s ear and neck; the rest splashed into Coffin Ed’s face. Coffin Ed’s shot went wild and shattered the desk-lamp.
Slim jumped backward so violently he slammed against the wall.
Hank dropped behind the desk a fraction of a second before Coffin Ed, blinded with the burning acid and a white-hot rage, emptied his pistol, spraying the top of the desk and the wall behind it with .38 slugs.
One of the bullets hit a hidden light-switch and plunged the room into darkness.
“Easy does it,” Grave Digger shouted in warning, and backed toward the door to cut off escape.
Coffin Ed didn’t know the lights were out. He was a tough man. He had to be a tough man to be a colored detective in Harlem. He closed his eyes against the burning pain, but he was so consumed with rage that he began clubbing right and left in the dark with the butt of his pistol.
He didn’t know it was Grave Digger who backed into him. He just felt somebody within reach and he clubbed Grave Digger over the head with such savage fury that he knocked him unconscious. Grave Digger crumpled to the floor at the same instant that Coffin Ed was asking in the dark, “Where are you, Digger? Where are you, man?”
For a moment the speechless dark was filled with violent commotion. Bodies collided in a desperate race for the door. There was the sound of crashing objects and shattering glass as the floor lamp and cocktail table were overturned and trampled.
Then Imabelle screamed again, “Don’t you cut me!”
A rage-thickened voice spluttered, “I’ll kill you, you double-crossing bitch.”
Jackson lunged toward the sound of Imabelle’s voice to protect her.
“Where are you, Digger? Speak up, man,” Coffin Ed
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