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Pulp Fiction, 1925 · page 164 of 196

Adventure Magazine Cover — page 164: what you’re looking at

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Adventure Magazine Cover — page 164: Pulp Fiction, 1925

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io Me ate ee CL ci ed Bee a ee ee ee ee ee ee ~< Se rt. hak mt | ie, rf Pr hem: toe wee ee. ak ae per eS Ss eas = Wy ord a > Te aS he Se SPS eae hee, r 2 4 —s 1 $ . ; ney = ate as 162 price for ’em, just to keep Piperock, from leadin’ the procession. Telescope Tolliver and Muley Bowles told us about it today. Telescope said he thought we ought to know about it.” “Yeah, we heard about it,” says Dirty Shigt, kinda off-handed like. “It didn’t mean nothin’ to us.” “Well, we’re holdin’ a indignation meetin’ tomorrow night,” says Magpie. “We aims to protest openly against such practise. It amt ethical. You and Ike be there, will yuhe Up in the Mint Hall. The ladies auxiliary will be there, et cettery. We don’t wish for blood to be spilled. It’s agin our principles and regulations; but, by grab, they’ll go too far pretty soon—and have to get helped back.” The next day is kinda quiet in Piperock; but when Piperock is quiet she’s dangerous. Wick Smith ain’t at the store, and Mrs. Smith ain’t got much use for me and Dirty; so we keep away. After samplin’ some wobble water we pilgrims down to the liv- ery-stable to see how Hassayampa is comin’. But we don’t find Hassayampa in charge. Wick Smith meets us at the door, and he looks as wise as a owl. “Whatcha want?” he asks. “Whatcha got?” asks Dirty. Wick clears his throat kinda hoarse-like. “I've got civic pride, by ——!” “You've showed it, Wick,” says I. “Uh-huh. If I had more sense and less pride Pd be better off. Hassayampa Harris hands me a bill for thirty-six dollars’ worth oft feed—and I got so —— full of pride that I kicked him out and took charge. “My ——, that elephant is jist like a hay-baler. Yuh can’t fill it up, I tell yuh. And he was feedin’ Cleo-patree meat! Can yuh beat that? Cleo-patree is the tiger. That son of a gun has cost me one hundred dollars per stripe.”’ “Wick,” says I, “wouldst be rid of ’em?”’ Wick looks at me for quite a while, spits painful-like and nods slowly. “Wouldst.” “T can get yuh a thousand dollars for the layout.” “Ike, I hope yuh ain’t lyin’ to me.” “C. 0. D.,” says I. ___ that’s the joker,” says he kinda wailin’. “C. 0. D., eh? How in can yuh de- liver a thing like these, I’d ask you? Half of Piperock is guardin’ this here stable. = eS ea 7 0 ee on a us, kinda asthmatic-like. Adventure | Over across the street is Pete Gonyer. Farther down the street is Mighty Jones, and up the other way is Olaf Hansen. One of them three has his eye on this place. They’re watchin’ to see that Paradise don't come and take them away “And at night they’re SaArGEy ‘this place with sawed-off shotguns. They heard that Paradise was goin’ to take away the menag- erie; that’s what they heard.” “Tt’s kinda easy to see why Paradise wants to shift the job to me and Dirty Shirt Jones,” says ‘“‘Can’t yuh do as yuh want to with yore own animals?”’ “TI can’t,” wails Wick. “Magpie got me drunk, Judge Steele wrote out a option— and I signed it. I can’t sell until thirty days after Labor Day. By that time ll be in the poor house.” “What do these here animals look like?” asks Dirty. Wick leads up back in the stable and makes us used to the dangdest lookin’ trio of animals I ever seen. Cleopatra is in a cage on wheels, and if there ever was a meaner-lookin’ tiger I’ve never seen it. She’s jist skin and bones and a big mouth full of teeth. The camel opens his mouth and grins at His name is Sahara, and he looke like ——. It is wasn’t for his humps he’d look like a moth- eaten burro. “Here’s the e pluribus peritonitis,” says Wick, pointin’ at the next stall. ‘There stands Gunga Din. I tied the son of a gun up a while ago.” We steps over and takes a close look. It’s kinda dark in that stall. Whapl Somethin’ hit me in the face and I done a foot-race backward plumb to the rear door, where I hits my shoulders first, followed by the rest of my anatomy, makin’ a sound like the couplin’-up of an engine on a train of cars. Kinda clunkety, clinkety, clank! . Through the haze I sees Dirty Shirt fade out through the front doorway, and I seen Wick Smith climb up a post, where he hangs harness. He got hold of the harness peg and tries to lift himself up; but the peg busted and he landed back on the floor under two sets of heavy harness. 1 got up and went weavin’ down the stable, feelin’ kinda light and airy. I seen Wick come up from under that harness and go gallopin’ out of the place with a horse Gomicbooks.com