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Pulp Fiction, 1928 · page 127 of 156

Argosy All-Story Weekly — "Sea Marauders" — page 127: what you’re looking at

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Argosy All-Story Weekly — "Sea Marauders" — page 127: Pulp Fiction, 1928

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ee Se f for 08 VA ts ee ra sal Wy CIRO ban ott NN The . in ,, *) Wil wae Ni TL Yee ae Re: / aya We Tia on eS ty poereiad. = Tit attend to that myself. But I'll tell you what you will do, Wane! You'll submit to a thorough ex- amination by my physician before this _day’s out. I want an opinion on you! “‘J—I don’t believe you're all right! I don’t think you’re responsible. I’m going to keep you here till I learn what I want to know, but I’m going to take precautions. Dammit! I don’t believe you're safe to have around; you might get violent any minute!” “ Why—colonel—” was the effective remark Richard made. The colonel, with one hand on the telephone, sat back and glowered. “The man who said you were a per- fect secretary ought to get a reward!’ he observed. “ Reward?” Richard echoed. “ Yes! One year at hard labor! Sit down there, Vane!’ He pointed to a chair. Mr. Melton ‘winced again and failed to obey. The minutes, you see, were flying! Indeed, he had never seen time whiz by as it was whizzing this morning, and there was no way at all of telling just how long William Reeves would remain in his office. A few minutes ago, the heading off of William had been a very desirable thing; now it was purely a matter of life and death! Why, if ever Seymour arrived and found Bill posing as the promising young architect in the case— “T’m sorry,” Richard stated. “ But I have to go now!” “Go where?” the colonel barked. Richard thought hard in that half second; it would have to be a convinc- ing somewhere that he was going! “T—er—have to take a dose of medicine, colonel,” he said, as inspira- tion arrived. “It’s fifteen minutes overdue now!” Colonel Bragg’s eye grew again. “Oh, you’re doctoring already, are yo ou? What are you SEInE, VanerP A sedative?” | SS ‘Yes! Morphine! ES Richard cried, keen EVERY | MINU TE counts. because that was the most powerful sedative that occurred to him at the — moment. “So that’s it, hey?” Colonel Bragg’ cried, and his keen eyes opened and elittered fresh rage. ‘“‘ We've got a hop-head on our hands, have we? Well— He said a good deal more than just that; he said many of the things which Richard had said, last night, to his re- filled bureau drawer. Yet he might have said ten times as much and said it ten times as shock- ingly, without making the smallest im- pression upon a man as anxious to get to a private telephone as was Richard Melton just then. Moving inch by inch toward the door, he had reached it as the worst of the cyclone passed. “Ts that—er—all, colonel?” he asked thinly. “It’s enough, isn’t it?” puffed the - colonel. “Go get your damned dope!” His final wave of dismissal was quite unnecessary. Richard was on his way even then. The staircase he covered three steps at a time, which was quite a feat, their width con- sidered; the upper hall he slid straight across, arriving in Mrs. Bragg’s domain rather suddenly and rather noisily. The lady looked up from her magazine, with more than a little ae terest. “Was it as bad as that?” she sakeat quickly. “Is Samson after you? Why on earth did you come here if—” “Excuse me, Gwen; I have to tel- ephone!” said Richard, almost as one word, and continued his lightning passage. The operator, he assumed, had died at her post! For all of three seconds, he had been pumping away at the hook and still there was no response. Maybe the line had been cut? Maybe—just there a voice came to Richard’s ear, and - he barked out his number and waited, — foot tapping; and then: . “Mr. Reeves!” he snapped: 43 Mr. - Melton spealene:.