Pulp Fiction, 1934 · page 105 of 148
Western Story Magazine, May 12, 1934 — page 105: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Page 103 from "The Barking Dog" This page contains **story prose** from Chapter IX, titled "Act of Mercy." The narrative follows Jerry awakening at a ranch after sleeping thirty hours. He discovers that Parks, the ranch foreman, has cared for a gravely ill young man by isolating him in a shed, fearing contagion. When Jerry and Parks visit the sick man, they find him in severe distress—exhausted, lying on a cot with bloodstains on the floor. Parks's grim expression suggests the man is dying, likely from internal injuries. The passage emphasizes Parks's compassionate but pragmatic response to the stranger's illness, balancing humanity against practical ranch concerns.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
_The Barking Dog _ has been attended to. I sent a bunch o’ the boys up in the hills with them. I didn’ t want Jerry to mix in that matter.” “Thanks, Parks,” Elizabeth said, and closed the door quickly. CHAPTER IX. ACT OF MERCY, Poon awoke in one of the bunk houses at noon. He re- membered that Parks had roused him in the kitchen and that he had gone to the bunk house. Up for more than thirty hours and used to regular sleep, he had not remem- bered that a “bee” was in prospect. It was his first thought now. He went outside and hunted up Parks. The punchers, heretofore, had been a little ofish, but his encounter with the man who had killed Shorty Flynn had _ banished whatever doubts they had had, and they grinned at him as he yawned his way past them. He found Parks sitting on the kitchen steps, smoking his pipe. Jerry sank down beside him. “You let me sleep while you took care of them fellas,” Jerry said. “I didn’t take care of them. Some o the boys did. They took care o’ them good, too. You an’ me wasn’t needed. You hadda have your rest. You gotta be strong an’ ready at all times, Jerry.” “Yeah. 33 “Elizabeth is fine this mornin’, , said Parks. “She got some rest, too.” “Tt was on her account you let them boys slip away ‘thout me,” Jerry declared. “Might be.” Jerry sat looking ahead of him for a moment. His thoughts re- verted to the scene at the bottom of the mountain slope. He remem- bered that sick man. answered. 103 “Parks,” he exclaimed, “did you | take care o’ that sick young fella, too?” “You might not think so, but I got a human streak in me,” Parks “That young fella is lyin’ in that shed over yonder. I couldn’t put him in the bunk house or take him inta the house. He was coughin’ his head off when I went out to the boys las’ night. I dunno if what he’s got is ketchin’, but I couldn’t take no chances.” ““How’s he this mornin’?” “Not so good. He looks like a ghost. I reckon hell be a ghost afore long. I guess he must ’a’ swal- lowed a bucket o’ live coals some- time, an’ them coals burned him out inside o’ him. He’s shore burned out.” ‘Nothin’ we can do for him?” “Naw. I’ve seen two, three fellas in the fix he’s in. At the end they Jus’ give a gasp an’ was gone. I got a puncher in there with him, settin’ back f’m him.” That puncher had been in the shed but now he came out of it, hastily. He was an excited young man. Catching sight of Jerry and Parks, he called to them loudly. They hastened over to him. | “That fella is in a bad way,” the puncher said. “I dunno what’s hap- pened him. You better have a look at him, Parks.” Jerry and Parks went into the shed. The man lay on a cot which Parks had had carried in there. He was leaning over the edge of it. There was a stain on the floor, a wet, rusty stain. As the two men entered, the sick man pushed himself from the edge of the cot and lay on his back, his eyes closed, his lips dropped apart. He seemed ex- hausted. Parks looked at Jerry and shook his head. ee 55 Soon?” Jerry asked on oaks carr