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Pulp Fiction, 1938 · page 106 of 116

10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 106: what you’re looking at

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10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 106: Pulp Fiction, 1938

What you’re looking at

# Page Analysis This is **story prose** from a pulp detective magazine. The page, numbered 104, contains the continuation of what appears to be a hardboiled crime story titled "10-Story Detective." The visible text depicts an intense action sequence in a barroom where the protagonist Tom fights off multiple attackers, rescues an unconscious man named Snowy, and evades gunfire before police arrive. The narrative emphasizes violence, quick thinking, and danger typical of early pulp crime fiction.

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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

i 4 poh na Sb) Mas i) Bat » yy “a a oe bi ai Ww f vey oy y 7 Pil aA Bi vee 4 ey Bias, { | ’ by 4 U De a hie ts wr Piste iy Leh \ rae | ‘, EMSA ey, own 3 Where eee UU a wpe ‘yo él 4) Pei Oh es rage a ORB oA ing BA 0S Ge ee ok eh OL 1 ea a aa oe Pe as BI ” = 4 7 | Or Fu ee ae et 4b 7 J yl 4 PRAM i,t aii 2 wt ' a Age A sa >< i. \ +. < Pye ’ ay Ay hs Ya eh 5 t) Tenet it Ih yh: ‘ } ViMratep at ti i - uy’ fey ay Waste , 7 7 4 : Le - le [piel , SA de 4 Vi te Ae v") i vk ee. more of a safeguard to Tom than an impediment. He knew the way to the front door; knew just how many ex- convicts would be barring his way. There was a telephone hooked to the wall just behind the bar. If he could reach that! He made certain Snowy was still unconscious, shoved him against the wall and crawled forward. So far only one shot had been fired aud that from somewhere behind this barroom. No one would have heard it. Before any inquisitive patrolman might stop in to find out why no lights were on, Tom would be riddled with bullets. He heard a hoarse whisper to his left. _“You guys know this screw,” some one said in a rasping voice. “He put all of us on the rack. Now let’s fix him —for good. We’ll dump his body in the river, You guys that are game, spread out. I’m gonna turn a flashlight loose. When you see the mug, bump him!” M crouched, gun ready for in- stant action. He guessed the ex- act location of the phone, sprang for- ward a half dozen steps and vaulted the bar. , Thick arms closed about him, but before his captor could raise an alarm, Tom jabbed a hard right to the pit of his stomach, doubled him up and cracked a second blow to the face. The arms fell limply away. Tom’s explor- ing hands found the telephone. He lifted the receiver, let it hang by its cord and raised his gun close to the instrument. He dialed the operator and snapped two quick shots that must have almost blown the operator’s ear drums out. The jabbing finger of a flashlight swept the bar. Tom dropped behind it. The light traveled on. He began to perspire. In a second it would reveal Snowy. That would end in but one thing and Tom needed Snowy badly. He grabbed a bottle from the bar and sent it hurtling to his, right. It © crashed against the wall. Instantly the flash swept toward the sound. Tom came around the end of the bar like 104 ________—10-STORY DETECTIVE- a halfback gripping the ball and look- ing for a clear field. He scattered two men with his powerful shoulders, reached Snowy and lifted him up. There was only one place of safety— behind the bar. ae “He’s over here,” some one yelled and the flashlight swept toward Tom. This beam of white light would be- come a death ray if it centered on him. Once he was brought into relief, a dozen gangland guns would speak their vicious messages of doom. He fired once in the direction of the light. It winked out instantly. But the streak of flame from his own gun made him a target. Lead slammed into the wall beside him. Tom made for the protection of the bar again. Some one tried to stop him. Tom snapped a short blow that floored the shadowy hulk of his opponent. A siren’s wail caused a momentary silence. Then feet scurried away. Men raced for every exit, running like rats before a fire. In one minute, Tom and Snowy were alone in the big room, Flashlights seared the darkness. A tense voice demanded an explanation and a quick release of the gun Tom still gripped. He let it thud to the floor. “An’ keep it there!”’ the patrolman ordered. “What the divil is goin’ on here anyway? It looks like a ornate hit this dump.” “I’m Tom Fargo, Parole Officer,” Tom stood up. “This man is my prisoner. Some one put out the lights in here. I’ve got to get away quickly. Will you take charge of this man?” “Sure I will, but maybe it’ll be best if you wait for Donovan. He’s on his way right now. We met him outside and he’s throwin’ a cordon around the place.” Donovan rushed into the barroom. He quickly reached Tom’s side, breath- less and crimson of face. “TY thought you’d get into trouble, Tom,” he panted. “That landlady at Reade’s rooming house told me you’d questioned her. I came ag fast as I (Continued on page 106) TA ie CEP BRA iy A ee Tee ASST VS TELA ®t Mew de & oe) oa | A NI i) A Li LTA AS Aig aiid : » r i LW ve fe ee Y, i i ’ AAO ENON I Aon i Ma sik Maes Sd) By Ud (P y wo Vy FF, a a Aa 1 ee ty V74y A if, rt ¢ { fi. i} Nea ‘ Wt) ' dy PATL us bent py Ratan’ NER : tj Ned) ae = =a ‘ —_ _ €omicbooks.ce ae