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Pulp Fiction, 1943 · page 19 of 116

12 Sports Aces, January 1943 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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12 Sports Aces, January 1943 — page 19: Pulp Fiction, 1943

What you’re looking at

# Page Analysis This is **story prose** from page 17 of *The Red-Light Express*, a pulp fiction magazine. The text describes an intense ice hockey game featuring protagonists Wild Bill Sweeney and Happy Holliday against rival players including Angel Toland. The narrative follows Sweeney's athletic performance—his goal-scoring plays, his physical endurance despite injury, and the escalating tension as the game reaches its climax, with Sweeney appearing to gain the upper hand over his antagonist Angel Toland on the ice.

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

THE RED-LIGHT EXPRESS 17 2 Den aar Ore rnheO reread Des Hees ie Hors eee DH 1 + Pt Or Peete OH nO: i Ore Oe Orr e+ OO Ors Bie O ree Bene Oe Oe eee ee eG is Pee Deena BeBe se Bear sortie in front of the cage and the puck slid loose. Sweeney whirled into mo- tion, snagged the rubber. He hurtled for- ward, swerving past a Bear winger and went sizzling down the boards. There he flashed, Wild Bill Sweeney on the loose. The Bear backliners braced themselves. Then out of nowhere, Happy Holliday came whizzing and lunging into the breach. He punched a hole in the de- fense and Sweeney rode through. He side- swiped one man, tipping him off balance and bore in on the rival net tender. Swee- ney threw a feint, tricked the goalkeep to his knees, and lifted a dark bullet into the unguarded corner of the net. That play pulled a roar right out of the crowd’s teeth. The noise broke and fellupon Sweeney in a wave of acclaim. It swept Sweeney right into their hearts and started Angel Toland on his trip out the back door. This guy Sweeney was turning on the heat, defying the jinx. Two minutes later Sweeney was twist- ing and spinning and sprinkling ice shav- ings in the faces of the Bears. He ripped past the blue line. Angel Toland lurched in at an angle, his stick poised for a pass. But Sweeney saw that Angel would have to get off a miracle shot to score. Sweeney went in alone, pulling his blast as he skated away from the cage. The puck spanged into the net and Sweeney had done it again. E COULDN'T hold that breathtak- ing pace. Not with double-distilled torture hammering at his sides. Sweeney avoided contact as much as possible, pick- ing his spots and spurting when he saw his opening. The Raiders picked up the rhythm of his flashing skates and surged to the attack, taking up the slack when Sweeney was forced to level off the pace. The Bears, trailing, 3-2, tightened the pressure. On a four-man rush, they opened up the throttle in a desperate at- tempt to stem the tide. Action flared and the dynamite hit and exploded around the Raider cage. In the wild, swirling fracas, Sweeney was caught and drawn into it. Something ripped at his legs, spilled him on his back. He got a glimpse of Angel Toland’s scowling face and knew what was coming and was helpless to protect himself. Then Sweeney saw Happy Holliday move in, place him- self in front of Angel Toland. The ref's whistle signaled a face-off. Words were exchanged between Happy and Angel. Sweeney was shaken by the blow that had floored him. The only thing that had prevented Angel from giving him the works was Happy. Sweeney had a hunch that it was no coincidence that Happy was on the spot at that moment. The game rose toward a climax, in the last quarter. Sweeney held himself in tow, biding his time to cut loose again. The crowd was roaring his name. He had shoved the mighty Angel into the back- ground, stolen his thunder, The Bears kept a wary eye on Sweeney, badgering him and checking him close and hard. But Sweeney knew the tricks and he employed them to avoid unnecessary contact that might completely shatter his ribs. He used daring, flashing speed and swerving, bril- liant tactics to outmaneuver the Bear backliners. In the waning minutes of the game the Bears threw five forwards on the ice ia an all-out attack. The Raiders went into a defensive formation, trying to make their one-goal margin stand up. That was when Sweeney lapped up a rebound. He shook off an enemy icer, burst into the clear, pulling Nails Hearne with him. The Bears were caught flat-footed. They didn’t expect the Raiders to un- loosen an offensive bolt. They didn’t know Sweeney. He zoomed down center ice, swooped in on the Bear net-minder. He faked a shot, passed to Nails Hearne slanting in from the opposite side, Nails’ bullet-drive tagged the red- light. Sweeney had deliberately passed up his chance to notch three goals and turn the hat trick. It was a nice piece of team- work. Nails shook his head at Sweeney. “Tt shouldn’t happen to me,” he said. “Maybe you’re dumb like a fox. I dunno. But this game ain’t going to end when the gun goes off. It’s gotta be you or An- gel. There’s not room on the ice for two guys with the same style. It’s happened before.” | Time ran out a minute later. The EOMICLOOOKS (C@