Pulp Fiction, 1922 · page 133 of 180
Argosy All-Story Weekly, 4 February 1922 — page 133: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1922. 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.
‘THE BLOOD-CALL. and their costumes did not belie their pro< fession—baggy cord trousers, flannel shirts, torn, lop-brimmed hats. The sun beat down with a desert’s feroc- ity on the red and yellow blankets of the Indians and the crazy-quilt waists of the squaws. Mexican renegades were’ there, dressed as if for a bullfight with pompoms dangling from the rims of their sombreros, and vests of shabby velvet opening upon khaki shirts. Behind the paling, with his arms resting on the edge, was the fat, towering form of the Dead Cow proprietor, and close about him was his coterie of croupiers and bar- keeps. A few feet to one side was another figure considerably more sinister, but as eager and hilarious as any—Juan Scaly— swearing to every one within hearing that his master wousd win this fight or else the hell-bender would find himself hanging onto the corral dust wtih a slug of lead in his mouth. To his left, hidden among the mozos of the Taurog household, a woman watched. This was Taurog’s “ housekeeper,” Nell Gamble. Nell was thinking spells of her own—and they were cast upon the same fighter—but they had behind them a much more burning desire and hate than Juan Scaly’s inspirations. Nell Gamble’s black eye was painted with flesh-color, but there were broncho-busters there who thought her the ideal woman, despite the scowl and the set of the dark lips. This lone spectator was on Quade’s side ' —only one out of that yelling mob. But later there was another. Every one there had looked around to catch a glimpse of Taurog’s foster-daugh- ter. Her appearance the previous night at the Dead Cow Saloon, and her dress, low- cut, brilliant, audacious, was still vivid in the minds of every one who had seen her. But Kirbie was nowhere in the crowd. Until three o’clock she had remained in her room. When the time came for the fight she sent for one of the stablemen who attended to Taurog’s thoroughbreds. “Has Taurog given you orders about his blood bay?” The stable-boy replied that he had not seen his master all day. 445 “He is thinking only of his fighting now,” Kirbie went on. “ But when the fight is over he is going to ride to Lava, There will be a big procession; everybody is going to celebrate the victory. Now Tau- rog said he wanted his blood bay. It is to be saddled and brought to the east of the corral, bridled and ready. You can cinch up that Visalia saddle and use the Spanish bitt.” “TI will have him ready, sevorita, and I will groom him again so that his fine brown coat will shine like otter skin.” _ “And I want my own horse, the red roan. Saddle her, too,” Kirbie ordered. “IT am going to ride with Taurog.” “‘T will groom your horse, too, seiorita.’”” *“* And it might be best, if you are taking them from their stalls, to lead them to a quiet place—over there by the gorge. At least till the noise is over. They are ner- vous and fretful, and there will be a lot of screaming during the fight.” “Yes, senorita, I will take them to the gorge—it is quiet there. If I groom them by the stable where the crowd is, there is no telling what will happen. They fret themselves into lather at a sound.” Kirbie looked down from the house to the corral and noticed that the yelling and hullabaloo had suddenly dwindled to a deathlike silence. By this shé knew that Quade had entered the ring and that the crowd had seen him and was waiting for the entrance of Taurog. CHAPTER XXI. THE JACK*DOG AS REFEREE, UADE’S entrance into the corral, ac- Q companied by Pedro and the two guards, had put a stop to the ex- cited babble of the crowd. The vacqueros quit their dice-throwing, and the crowd of sweating, quarreling men who were placing bets in the hands of Jude Silent—the self- appointed bookmaker—became suddenly mute, Every eye was intently focused on Jim Quade. To all appearances the fight was to be informal to the last degree. Quade had not even stripped for the combat. He wore the ,00 <S SOI (¢ (E(0)