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Pulp Fiction, 1925 · page 100 of 170

Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 13, 1925 — page 100: what you’re looking at

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Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 13, 1925 — page 100: Pulp Fiction, 1925

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old He had no need to seek her out, for she had come to him as soon as old Moon’s key released her. She was passionately anxious regarding those shots. “It was a signal,” he explained, finding it hard to convince her that he was un- scathed. ‘‘ I fired so that Stockbridge would close in.” “ You were waiting for him?” she cried, amazed. THE U ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, “ Shore,” grinned Bud. He drew from his pocket that which he had found fluttering on the ground near the Peabody mine. ‘When I went out to tell Fenton just what I thought about him, I found these in the dump behind his shack,” he explained. And in the strong circle of his arm she could with difficulty make out the scraps of blue bandanna handkerchief which had so cbviously been cut away to make two eye- lets in a mask. END SEARCH [)JSSATISFACTION lit my soul And sent it out to find Some one, or thing, or place, or time— Untutored, crude and blind! Barbaric music caught its ear With rending, throbbing clashes As fevered kisses smothered sengs In little, colored splashes! It fascinated for a while But didn’t satisfy— So further surged we on, in search, My eager soul and I! Cross grumbling bridges that complained, And looping roads that drop Down cedar-clad, immobile hills, We followed, but to stop. The fluttering winds and pungent earth Lent much of wisdom’s lore, But something in my soul refused To think there was no more: I watched the bees and butterflies, And said ‘‘ Aha! We'll dance:” But in fatigue, I laughed and cried, ‘It’s further on, perchance!” So delved we in philosophy To find a certain peace, Excepting that my soul, averse, Kept urging, without cease! To music’s power, I turned in hope Of what it meant and taught, But though it soothed and comforted, It wasn’t what I sought! And then you came, while tremblingly I weighed your words and ways, Aware that I had found a clew To my perplexing maze! I do not count the joy or pain; I take you as you are! The search is ended---nothing now Can constitute a bar! A little fun—a httle love— Some one to love and care! Perhaps my search was not unique. It’s happening everywhere! Sonia Ruthéle Novak Clary. CO DoOOk C© =