Pulp Fiction, 1934 · page 78 of 148
Western Story Magazine, May 12, 1934 — page 78: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Analysis This is story prose from Street & Smith's Western Story Magazine (page 76). The text depicts a Western crime drama in which Sheriff Travis arrests a man named Jim Vestry on suspicion of bank robbery and threatening Franklin Dean, the bank president. The narrative follows Vestry's arrest and his subsequent arrival at the jail, where he denies the charges. The scene introduces several characters—Travis, Dean, two deputies, and a mysterious stranger in a business suit—as Vestry prepares to tell his side of the story to the sheriff.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
76 Street & Smith’s Western Story Magazine. - “What are you stoppin’ for?” he growled. “Go get ’em, why don’t Travis frowned. “You’re under arrest, Vestry,” he said distinctly. “Mac, you and Shorty take him back t’ town!” : Vestry’s jaw dropped. ‘Travis and the bulk of his posse swept for- _ ward again, leaving two men staring down at Vestry. “Arrest?” Vestry spoke slowly, not quick to understand. “I reckon that’s supposed t’ be funny; but I ain’t laughin’, am I? Travis must be gettin’ childish in his old age, eh?” He smiled at the nearest deputy. Mac was his friend; Mac would explain things to him, cer- tainly. : The man cleared his _ throat. “Sorry, Deef,”’ he said, speaking very loud. “Franklin Dean recog- nized you. Said you was in t’ see him this morning’, askin’ for a loan. He refused you, and he claims you threatened him; talked real wild, he says. Surprisin’ what a scrap he put up against the six o’ you, wasn’t it? Never’d expect it of a little but- ton like him.” “Scrap?” Vestry’s tone was one of bewilderment. ‘“So—Dean put up a scrap, did he? Says I helped to rob his bank, eh?” Vestry’s eyes had tightened to beady slits. He shrugged. “All right, boys,” he said. “Let’s go to town!” The two deputies turned their mounts, waiting for Vestry to lead off. One of them leaned down as. he passed, shouting: — “Reckon we'll have t’ make you walk, Deef,” he called. “You might make a break for it if we give you a hoss!” Vestry glanced at him. “Don’t need to yell, Shorty,” he said. “I had an operation on my ears while I was back East. I can hear . as good as any man, now. That’s how-come I was askin’ Dean for a loan, this mornin’. Them city doc- tors sure come high!” T was long past dark that night when Jim Vestry walked into the office at the front of the Tas- cosa jail where Sheriff Long Tom Travis awaited him. Franklin Dean, president of the Tascosa Bank, was there, too, and Vestry’s eyes rested for a moment on the dapper little man. There were other men im the room, but Vestry ignored them for the moment, turning at once to Travis. The sheriff’s long face seemed unusually mournful. “I sure never expected to have a Vestry for a boarder, Jim,” he said. “I’m right sorry.” Vestry grinned. ‘“Needn’t yell, Jim,” he said. “I had my ears fixed up. I’m some surprised to be here, too.” | Travis’s mind handled one thing- at a time, methodically. “Not deef any more, eh? That good! Folks been callin’ you Deef Vestry so long it'll take some time t’ cure ’em oO’ yellin’ at you, though. You want t’ tell your side o’ this business, Jim? I got t’ warn you, ‘fore you start, that anything you say can be used against you.” 3 Vestry’s gaze traveled about the little circle of faces. Travis, gloomy and ill at ease; two deputies, here as witnesses, both curious and a little puzzled by it all; Franklin Dean, white-faced but defiantly trium- phant. Vestry grinned at Dean, and the banker frowned. There was an- other man, too; a stranger to Vest- try, dressed in a carefully tailored business suit. Vestry wondered about him, vaguely. , “Nothin’ much to tell, sheriff,” he said. “I called at the bank this chet tid so ecomicbooksacom