Pulp Fiction, 1934 · page 40 of 148
Western Story Magazine, May 12, 1934 — page 40: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Analysis This is **story prose** from Street & Smith's Western Story Magazine (page 38), a pulp western fiction publication. The visible text depicts a bank robbery in progress. A character named Dan, who has disguised himself with dark clothing and a handkerchief mask, enters a bank with a drawn gun, forces the teller and bank president at gunpoint into a back room, and prepares to rob the vault. The narrative describes his nervous state and the conveniently emptied town, which Dan had cleverly manipulated into a stampede toward Sundown Creek by drunkenly mentioning gold there the previous night.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
38 | Street & Smith’s Western Story Magazine After that he refused. “Nope,” he told them, “‘if I drink too much, Pll be talking, and I can’t afford te do that.” “Well, just one more won't hurt,” a persuasive voice insisted. “All right, this is the last,” Dan declared. He drank frequently, and pres- ently began to sing. They joined in, calling him good old Hi Manning. He mellowed. ‘Say; you ’re all nice boys, ” he said thickly. “I can see you’ Te men of dis—discretion. I’m goin’ to tell you a lie secret. They’s gold up on Sundown Creek. I took out two thousand dollars in nuggets inside * He looked around in bewil- derment. “Where'd everybody go?” “I’m afraid you’ve started a stam- pede,’ Mitchell said. “You men- tioned Sundown Creek, and by to- morrow noon there will not be an able-bodied man left in town.” He slapped Dan’s shoulder. “You’d better go home and sleep it off. Come around in the morning, and ll have the grub ready to throw on your burros.” “Thanks,” Dan Stuart muttered, “thanks.” © In’ the darkness, he grinned broadly. LL night there were sounds A of hasty departure, but Dan slept peacefully. Things were moving along so smoothly that luck appeared to be with him. Al had conveniently appeared to shoul- der the responsibility of Beasley’s well-deserved death, and Dan had tricked the town’s famous man hunt- ers into stampeding. At ten o’clock Dan dusted him- self with ashes once more and started for Miutchell’s with burro. He passed through a narrow space between the bank and a build- ing, then turned into the main and building again, one , street. cheerful. “They just about cleaned off my shelves,” he said. “This town was sure ripe for a stampede.” “Some day I'll learn to either quit drinkin’ or keep my mouth shut when- I do dfink,’ Dan answered. He carried several packs to the burro, divided the load, and threw a diamond hitch over it. “T’ll be back in about fifteen minutes,” he said. He turned back between the bank stopped the burro, and pulled a black shirt over his head. A moment later he drew on a pair of worn overalls, jerked a battered black hat from a cache in the brush, and pulled it down over his eyes. He covered his face and neck with a handkerchief, leaving slits for the eyes. | His hands were perspiring from nervousness that did not otherwise show outwardly. He was about to do something he had failed to do once, and which no man had suc- cessfully accomplished. He watched, saw a man enter the bank, then leave it. The-.street was now de- serted. Those occupied were in- doors, the unoccupied portion of the town’s population was hurrying to Sundown Creek. Dan cut around the corner, and in three strides was in the bank. With gun drawn, he leaped over the counter and was behind the cage be- fore the teller realized it. The president was sitting in his office. He reached for a gun and changed his mind, | “Keep your hands up,’ Dan barked, “both. of you! That’s fine. Now back into that little room.” He indicated a wash room back of the vault. “You are getting better every minute,” he drawled, closing and locking the door on them. He leaped into . olan teller 5.¢ Goim Mitchell was sleepy but