Pulp Fiction, 1934 · page 111 of 148
Western Story Magazine, May 12, 1934 — page 111: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Analysis This page contains **story prose** from a Western pulp fiction narrative titled "The Barking Dog" (page 109). The text depicts Chapter X, "In Town," following a character named Jerry as he arrives in Nugget City at nightfall seeking someone named Tyson and visiting a man named Virlee's establishment—a combined saloon, gambling hall, and dance hall. Jerry moves through the crowded venue observing patrons, then exits to wait outside, where he notices a young, lean man emerge from the saloon and position himself nearby, exchanging meaningful glances with Jerry before the page cuts off mid-sentence.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
The Barking Dog E- sixty men, an’ I was tired an’ hungry. What is a horse for any- way?” “Go get somethin’ to eat,” Parks ordered. “Why, Jerry, you ain’t had no breakfas’.” Jerry was suddenly hungry. He went with the puncher. As he was about to remount, Mrs. Tyson ap- peared in the kitchen door. “Where’s my husband?” she called. 3 “Ain’t he in the house?” Jerry asked. “I thought he was in the other room, He isn’t. He must have gone round the house and got a horse. Oh, he’s gone to town!” “To get Virlee!” Parks exclaimed, the words popping from his lips be- fore he could check them. CHAPTER X. IN TOWN. ERRY reached Nugget City just after nightfall. He had ridden the roan horse hard and fast. For the most part he had kept out in the flat, for he had sup- posed that Tyson would keep to it. Then, not overtaking Tyson, he had concluded that Tyson had ridden in toward the hills. That would delay him somewhat, and Jerry hoped to reach town ahead of him. Jerry encountered no riders in the street. When riders came in, the saloons soon took them. That di- versified flow of humanity was again moving along the sidewalk. As he rode down to Virlee’s place, Jerry scanned the men. However, he looked in vain for such a person as the dying man had described. When he reached Virlee’s place, Jerry did not hesitate. He knew that the big man would have him killed if he could, but he would probably not do it here. He was 109 not forthright enough for that. Of course, some hanger-on might pick a quarrel, but Jerry was confident he could take care of such a cus- tomer. Virlee would not permit any one to shoot him in the back. Virlee could not get away with a witnessed murder. There were many decent men among the miners. _ Jerry pushed open the doors and walked into the barroom. At the side of one end there was a long bar. Customers, two deep, stood in front of it. They were all gay. Virlee’s whisky was already beginning to take effect. At the other end of the big room was the dance hall and, in between, the gambling paraphernalia. Crowds of men and women were about the tables, the men hazarding whatever stakes they could afford, the women awaiting a winning play. Jerry went about among the tables. No one seemed to pay any attention to him. If Virlee had made a marked man of him, the men for whom he had been marked were not here or they were sly. He went on to the dance floor. A square dance was on. Jerry could not pick out the trailer from among those bowing, scraping figures, and of course Tyson was not there. Jerry went outside to await Tyson’s arrival. He leaned back against the logs of the building and rolled and lighted a cigarette. The light of the match still dimmed his eyes when he saw the saloon door opened. A man emerged. He was a young man with a springy step, short but lean. He looked care- lessly past Jerry and then leaned up against the logs, on the other side of the door. Jerry stared out into the street. Out of the corner of an eye he could see the man give him a quick glance. Jerry quickly turned his head. . Before the.mar.,