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Pulp Fiction, 1925 · page 163 of 184

Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 7, 1925 — page 163: what you’re looking at

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Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 7, 1925 — page 163: Pulp Fiction, 1925

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ew rs ‘ bat af We ; vs} ; » 4 Pe GO a OTs, fae hf pa LAE TI NLT Se ST) AUN TN AW Mat Sit} ‘ ; A 1 des ae, if fay ‘ See ve 2 “> ee = ren Ns = IIHR PUR a ' Pi <P HIND kat Ag ) nae s Ape Ie ee Fa Re AY PUSSY RY BE Se fame a iN > LS ot ea 4 SNA TaN ALI RALHEA RRM Pee TUF MEAS SATU Uy aT PUT ea \ ENCHANTMENT. = “Lady,” George whispered. “ Lady— excuse. 1I—[—” The old, bothersome weakness took his knees and he was conscious of falling for- ward a vast distance. _ But he did not fall, for in ‘reality the Jong, strong arms of Patricia McGurl, eldest ‘Of the six young McGurls, seckived him. Though his weight was staggering Patricia ‘braced her active, coltlike legs and held him at the cost of all her strength. She got him braced against the fence and regarded him closely. “Glory!” she exclaimed, es you're not drunk at all!” : “ Sick,” George Ray sihisherad feebly. 3 os Sick—help me—”’ He sagged against. the fence without further speech, propped at a perilous balance and Patricia McGurl studied her find. He was not any young man of Milledge. A stranger. A handsome stranger, too! The fever had given his face a flush and the blinded eyes were large and _ brilliant. “Glory!” said Patricia, “he looks like Doug Fairbanks—just a little!” | The sick man’s breathing was rasping and erratic. He threatened at any moment to collapse on the wet ground. The chilly wind whipped at him and a few drops of rain fell. ‘‘ Youll catch your death out here!” Patricia cried. ‘ Come along; yes, you've got to.” | She got one of George’s arms wound about her slender shoulder and with her other encircled him, half dragging, half sup- porting him. Patricia had in mind the barn. It was to the barn she took the various waifs and strays she had nursed— a long succession of lame dogs, sick cats, a bird with a broken wing, even a vagrant goat. Welcoming the strays was the thing Patricia McGurl did best, but her family did not acclaim her for it. Recalling the clamor of protest over her last adventure with the goat she had grave doubts even as she urged the sick man onward. But at the cottage door she paused. For ____ shame, to lodge the stranger in a stable with the goat! The poor young man, so sick = and handsome! The best was none too good ___ for him! Patricia led the patient stumbling __into the front parlor and got him on the young man in there like to die. 633 sofa, glad that the other McGurls were not at home to interfere. She felt the fever in the man’s burning, — dry cheeks and tried with a cloth and water to cool it. After that she was at a loss. The big bulk of George Kay sprawled un- : - couthly on the sofa. His eyes were open but without intelligence. Every breath cost him a struggle. Every inch of him ees ul. So young, SO. good. to look. upon did SO _in need of help! Patricia took on a great responsibility. She went to the party line | telephone and called Dr. Reed. ‘Thus the McGurls discovered themselves possessed of a guest, a guest like to die— suré to die if he was moved out again. The doctor was specific on that point. “ His one chance is to stay where he is. If you want his death on your head, throw him out,” he said grimly. The wrath of Al McGurl passed all bounds. ‘‘ Who’s to pay for all this?” he bellowed. “ Answer that? Who’ Ss to pay? Not me, by all that’s holy—” doctor sl rugged. — e Well, McGurt Th gamble my time. If I pull him through I guess I can collect from him, somehow— “Food, nurses, medicine, you think that grows on trees for poor folks like us?” McGurl wailed. - “ Tl nurse him,” Patricia announced. “ I can do it—” “You!” her father roated: “You, with- out any more sense than to bring him in here! You that goes around the country collecting every half dead mongrel—”’ ““T can do it,” Patricia affirmed. “ Didn’t I cure the soat?” : “T think she can do it,” Dr. Reed agreed. “ She’s S young and strong. Fortunately it’s pneumonia and no danger to you.”’ Al McGurl seized his head in his two _hands and howled while his wife sat with her apron over her eyes and the young Mc- Gurls shrank into corners and under the furniture. Patricia turned on him. a black shame!”’ she cried. “« Shame on you, “ And that poor -Be still now! Be still! 1 won’t have it!” She ap- proached her father with fire in her black eyes, stamping her font angrily. Eomicbooks.co ED