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Pulp Fiction, 1941 · page 57 of 116

10-Story Detective, March 1941 — page 57: what you’re looking at

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10-Story Detective, March 1941 — page 57: Pulp Fiction, 1941

What you’re looking at

This page contains prose from a hardboiled crime story titled "Murder—in the Bag," showing a tense telephone negotiation between the narrator and a mobster regarding a kidnapping involving Lima beans and a ransom exchange at Park and Russell. Below the story narrative is an advertisement for a self-help teaching called "I Talked with God," attributed to Dr. Frank B. Robinson, which claims to bring supernatural power and material success to practitioners.

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

MURDER—IN THE BAG police on my way over here. The dicks put a tail on me. I lost them. Then a couple of your dumb hoodlums led the law right to the place. That’s where the cops came in—they fol- lowed your men who were tailing me.” I could hear the guy swearing. SAID: “That isn’t the saddest part. Your mobsters killed a dick out here and tried to snatch Miss Mc- Hale. Both times there was shooting. This job is getting hot.” “The hell you say!” “Exactly. The law’ll probably be back any minute. You’d better give her a chance to deliver before it’s too late. She’s tried to meet you halfway all night, and you and your dim-wits have done nothing except cross her up.” “So what?’ “So you must have some organiza- tion,” I needled him. “You bumped Willie Fargo because he muffed a play. And then you let the rest of your mob run around killing cops and shooting up the finest district in town. How long do you think you can get away with it?” 55 “Okay,” the voice said, and I knew I had scored with my guess about how Willie Fargo had _ died.. “That’s enough. Have the dame bring the beans to the corner of Park and Rus- sell. A man in a checkered cap’ll be waiting.” I said: “I know where it is. Pll drive her.” “Like hell you will. She’ll come alone.” “Ah—” I began, but he cut me short. “Alone, I say.” “You'll release her father as soon as you have the beans?” The question was intended to keep him talking. I wanted to be doubly sure about that voice. “Yeah. Yeah. Right away.” “Look. I’m curious. Just why is a bag of Lima beans worth a kidnaping rap? The Federal Bureau—” “Nobody’ll take a fall on this job!” “Don’t be too sure. They always trip crooks sooner or later.” ““A man will be at Park and Rus- sell,’”’ the voice said with finality. Then it added an afierthought: “The lug’s only a setup. If you knock him over, you won’t get anybody.” “T Talked with God” (Yes, 1 Did—Actually and Literally ) and as a result of that little talk with God a strange Power came into my life. After 42 years of horrible. dismal. sickening failure, everything took on a orighter hue. It’s fasci- nating to talk with God. and it can be done very | easily once you learn the secret. And when you do — well — there wil] come into your life the same dynamic Power which came into mine. The shackles of defeat which bound me for years went a-shimmering — and now—?—well. I own contro! of the largest daily newspaper in | ou) County, | own the largest office building in our City I drive a beautiful) Cadillac limousine. 1 own my own home which has a lovely pipe- organ in it, and my family are abundantly pro- vided for after I’m gone. And al] this has been made possible because one day. ten years ago. I actually and literally talked with God. You, too, may experience that strange mysti- cal Power which comes from talking with God, and when you do, if there is poverty, unrest, | unhappiness, or ill-healtn in your life, well — this same God-Power is able to do for you what it did fos me. No matter how useless or helpless your life seems to be—ai] this can be changed. For this 1s not a humar Power [’m talking about—it’s a God-Power And there can be no limitations to the God-Power can there? Of course not. You probably would like to know how you. too. may talk with God. so that this same Power which brought me these good things might come into vour life, too. Well— just write a ietter or a wost-card to Dr Frank B. Robinson, Dept. 999, Moscow, Idaho, and full particulars of this strange Teaching will] be sent to you free of charge. But write now— while vou are in the mood. It only costs one cent to find out. and this might easily be the most profitable one cent you have ever spent. It may sound unbelievable—but it’s true. or I wouldn’t tell you it was.—Advt. Copyright, 1939, Frank B. Robinson. Go .OO (E@