Pulp Fiction, 1925 · page 114 of 168
Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 11, 1925 — page 114: 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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hi iti ints be AS a SN UP a aS ; idk 7 pet) : OPE NYE MITER TI y ates Nee A UR MAE I MRO CHa SPN cert may TAR fm 268 neck to peer up past the eaves, told him ~ that the day would be clear and bright. Holding his boots in a hand, he walked soft- ly to the door, opened it a little, and lis- tened. Buck was beginning to stir. Reaching the kitchen, Hopalong pulled om his boots and lifted a lid of the stove. The ashes had not been dumped, which meant that Rose had left to Buck the nightly task of loading the stove for break- fast use. It took only a few minutes to clean the fire box and build up a scientific blaze. Scientific blazes were a hobby with Hop- along. Buck, despite all the wordy in-« structions wasted on him, still persisted in throwing in big chunks of wood and then standing on one foot and hoping that the match would take; and when Hopalong built the fire Buck stood on one foot and growled with impatience. First there must be a crisscrossed layer, of very fine shavings; then a crisscrossed layer of heavier shavings, with the wood of each succeeding layer increasing propor- tionately in thickness. It was a fine art, not to be slighted; and never did such a scientific foundation betray the trust placed in it. The touch of a match sent a roaring through the stove, and by the time one could go to the wood box and return even the top layer was blazing. Hopalong had just struck the match when the floor boards of the dining room creaked protestingly and Buck stuck his head in at the door. He blinked, yawned, and rubbed his eyes. Then he fixed them on the stove. “JT could ’a’ had two fires goin’ by this time,” he remarked with before-breakfast frankness. “You shore could—if they both didn’t go out,” replied Hopalong. There sounded a brisk crackling, a ten- tative hiss, and a growing roar. Little puffs ‘pf blue smoke shot through the chinks be- tween lids and stove top, and then the warmed chimney tried to suck stove and all up through the roof. Hopalong stood erect. “TJ might ’a’ had two fires goin’ by this time, or mebby three, if you’d raked out th’ ARGOSY-ALLSTORY. WEEKLY, Buck lifted his head from his dripping hands, blew resoundingly, and groped for the towel. “Huh!” he said. Then he moved to- ward the slab of bacon and picked up a knife. “Get away from that smoked hawg!” said Hopalong, grabbing the slab. “ You cut bacon like you oughta cut steak, an’ cut steak like you oughta cut bacon. Get a bucket of water if you’ve got to do some- thin’. 23 “ Gettin’ well right fast, ain’t you?” de- manded Buck, senior owner and foreman of the Double-Y. He spread his feet, jammed his knuckles against his hips, and stared with frank directness at his compan- ion. “ Gettin’ right back into yore old form, ain’t you? Reckon everybody oughta like their bacon all dried out, don’t you? Shore, I’ll get a bucket of water, an’ for a couple of pesos, Mex, I’ll heave it all over you!” “You ain’t goin’ to get nothin’ for no- body,” retorted Hopalong, dispensing with the bacon slab. He reached for the bucket and opened the door at the same time; and then turned his head and grinned at Rose Peters as she entered the kitchen. * “That’s right, Hopalong; if it is not too heavy for you,” said Rose, eying the bucket dubiously. “ Buck, the wood box © is empty. I'll have breakfast ready soon.” “Come on, Blear-Eye,” said Hopalong, grabbing Buck’s belt. “ Get some wood. You'll warm up an’ get near human when you see that sun.” Buck shuffied after his old friend, blinked at the rising sun, and grunted. “You gimme that bucket,” he ordered, grabbing one side of the pail. ‘“ You ain’t got no business drawin’ water till you get plumb well.” Hopalong bridled, and closed his grip on the other side of the handle. Then he yanked. Caught momentarily off balance, Buck went sideways, lost his grip, recov- ered his poise, and looked with disgust at — the bucket swinging in his friend’s hand. “You shouldn’t do that, Hoppy,” he chided. ‘ A sudden strain like that might open up them wounds an’ put you on aee | back again.” | ashes last night an’ got things ready,”