Tough as Nails: The Complete Cases of Donahue From the Pages of Black Mask by Frederick Nebel Page B

Donahue.
    Stein began, “Donahue, in the name of reason—”
    “To hell with reason!” roared Donahue, getting darker. “Shut up, both of you! You, Stein, take your clothes off! Strip!”
    “Why, I—”
    “Strip!”
    Micky Shane said, “Don’t you do it, Stein. This guy’s just a bad smell.”
    “Donahue,” rasped Stein, “I won’t submit to this humiliation!”
    Micky Shane yelped, “Don’t you, Stein!”
    Donahue took one quick step. His gun rose, came down hard against Micky’s head, and Micky hit the floor with glazed eyes. Stein made a leap for the door. Donahue jumped after him, caught him by the collar, yanked him back and sent him spinning across the room. Stein hit a chair, tumbled over it, banged his head against the window sill. He lay panting and gibbering, holding his head.
    “Get up,” said Donahue. “Get up and take your clothes off. If you don’t want to take them off, give me what I came here for. Get up!”
    Stein drew his knees up to his chest, crouched on the floor. Donahue went over, grabbed a handful of Stein’s shirt and heaved him to his feet. He shook him violently.
    “All right, keep your pants on, but raise your hands!”
    “Donahue, stop this. You can’t—”
    Donahue jammed a hand into one of Stein’s coat pockets. It came out empty.
    “Keep ’em up, Stein!”
    Micky Shane was crawling on hands and knees. Donahue heard him and twisted about. Stein drove a fist to Donahue’s ear. Donahue shook his head, swung back on Stein. Micky flung himself at Donahue’s legs. Donahue went down like a felled tree. But in falling he grabbed one of Stein’s legs and Stein went down too.
    Micky planted his teeth in Donahue’s leg, and Donahue yelled, “Damn you!” and twisted violently. Stein had a foot to use and he walloped it against Donahue’s head. Donahue clenched his teeth and wrenched Stein’s leg so hard that Stein cried out in pain. Micky let go of the leg and threw himself farther up on Donahue, striking the back of his head with hard little fists. Stein was kicking Donahue in the face, and Donahue reached back, caught one of Micky’s arms and forced him off his back. He muscled around dragging Stein with him, his gun beneath his stomach. He recovered his gun, suddenly heaved towards Stein and rapped the barrel against Stein’s head as Micky was scrambling to his feet. Stein grunted and lay flat on his back, and Donahue was on one knee when Micky kicked him in the jaw. The blow drove him tumbling back over Stein, but he rose in the midst of Micky’s next attack, blood dripping from his face, and with his left hand caught Micky by the throat. With his right he clubbed the gun twice on Micky’s head, held him for a moment with his left hand, then let him drop limply to the floor.
    He stood for a brief moment breathing heavily, while drops of blood from his face stained the front of his sweat-soaked shirt. He was a little numb, blinking his eyes and moving his jaw from left to right. He coughed, then sneezed, and rubbed his nose.
    He put his gun in his pocket and got down slowly to his knees beside Stein. He went through Stein’s coat pockets, drew out a leather wallet, dropped it on the floor. He went through Stein’s trousers pockets. He found nothing he wanted. He picked up the thick wallet and opened it, pulled out a lot of cards. Then he pulled out a lot of bills. A ring fell out with the bills and rang lightly on the floor. Donahue snatched it up, rose, stood looking at it. He smiled at it, tossed it into the air, caught it and shoved it into his pocket.
    He went over to a wash basin, poured water from a pitcher, leaned over the basin and with his hands splashed water into his face. He put his face down into the water, holding his breath. He backed away from the basin, shook his head, groped for and found a towel and dried his face. He looked at himself in a cracked mirror. A couple of cuts were bleeding.
    There were black and blue welts on his forehead and