Pulp Fiction, 1925 · page 34 of 196
Adventure Magazine Cover — page 34: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1925. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
SS ae oe PO rae ee ee ab pet Pe -* Pe fe , PS Oe eS Ne er ee Bde Sen OO a ee” ae ee, eee ee ee Fe tf IK a te OE A eS eg Sart ae eet ee te Lee hE ee oe ee ~* " ‘ad nee . ao s 4m < —_ = ‘ eh “ 32 Adventure Tros looked hard at Helma. There was laughter in his eyes, but Skell could not see that because he sat at Tros’ right hand. “Will you go?” he asked her. “As your enemy?” she answered. ‘‘Yes!” “Nay, I have enemies enough in Cesar’s_ “Did you hear her,’ camp!” said Tros. Skell? You must think of another means of making use of me!” But it had occurred to him he might make use of Skell. ‘‘Are you afraid to come to Lunden?”’ Skell looked frightened.- For a moment he seemed to fear Tros might take him against his will, until he remembered that the ships were on the mud and he was Tros’ guest, safe from violence. “Tam a stranger to all fear,’ he answered. And he could look the part; he would have deceived a man who did not know him. BUT the truth was, Skell was so » full of fear that he could be ? trusted to change his plan at any OS™ moment and never to tell the truth where he had opportunity to weave a lie. His was the dread that makes misers and all meanness. He felt himself a toad beneath the harrow of misfortune, who could never afford to keep faith because of the initial handicap with which he started out in life. He could recognize honesty—none more readily than he!—but only to try to take advantage of it; none less than he could cope with ‘subtlety that uses truth for bait and candid explanations for a trap. But sub- tlety of that sort was Tros’ instinctive weapon. “Sell ” he said, “you are a scoundrel who would slit your friend’s throat for a woman’s favor. I am not your friend; I have but one throat and I need it! I hope you are Cesar’s friend; yet I would hate to see a man like Cesar brought to his end by a —— like you! However, that is Cesar’s problem and not mine.” Skell tried to look offended, but: in his heart he felt flattered, as the smile in his eyes betrayed. Tros noticed that and con- tinued the same vein of frankness: “My difficulty, Skell, is this: That I have fed you. Therefore, you are my guest, and though I know you would never hesitate to kill me, if you could do it without danger, I dare not offend the gods by killing you. Therefore, I must make terms with you. have intrigued with Cesar. us, Skell, But a bargain has two sides. I am minded you shall come to Lunden.”’ “Why?” demanded Skell. ‘“‘Because I like to have my enemies where I can see them!” “And if I will not come?” P “You are afraid to come. You fear Cas- wallon. You know Caswallon knows you Yet you would like to go to Lunden because your house is there, and there are men who owe you money, whom you would like to press for payment. “However, it may be that lure is not strong enough, so I will add this: Am la man of my word, Skell? Yes? You are sure of that? Then listen: if you refuse to come to Lunden I will spend, if I must, as much as half of Cesar’s money that became mine when I took this bireme, I will spend it in cooking your goose for you! “T wHl set Caswallon by the ears about you. And if all else fails me, I will seek you out and slay you with my own sword, much though it would irk me to defile good steel in such a coward’s heart! Do you believe me?” “And if I come to Lunden?” Skell in-— quired. He was smiling. He enjoyed to talk of the issues of life and death when there was no presently impending danger. ‘Then I will concede this: I will not move ' hand or tongue against you while you do the same by me. I will tell Caswallon you are a harmless rogue whose bark is far worse than his bite, for, as the gods are all around that is my honest judgment of ou! “T will tell Caswallon you have done us all a service, for that is true: Unless you had gone to Gaul in hope of betraying me to Cesar, I could never have annoyed the Roman there at Seine-mouth. “Skell, I almost captured him! So I will beg Caswallon to ignore your treachery; and if he should refuse, I will protect you with my own guest-privilege.” Skell meditated that a while. His foxy, iron eyes kept shifting from face to face, avoiding Tros but constantly returning to study Helma, who was kneeling beside Sigurdsen, aiding his distracted wife to soak the stiffening bandages. “T mistrust your words,” Skell said at last. ‘You are a man who keeps a bargain, but you bind one craftily and I suspect a GEomichbooks.com