Pulp Fiction, 1929 · page 32 of 164
Adventure Trails, February 1929 — page 32: what you’re looking at
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S30: ADVENTURE TRAILS» == = _ that source. If only they didn’t relieve waited there, hand raised high, head = their sentries, now, everything would be _ fine. Ted felt quite sure they wouldn’t - bother changing sentries, since the meet- ing probably would not last more than an __ hour at the most. “Now for it!’ he whispered as they ___ €rept up into the shadow of the cabin. “Be ___ Sure your gun is loose, and, if you have to, don’t be afraid to use it. Keep behind me, and—Sh-h-h-h!” HERE was a muffled sound of == voices from the cabin, and somebody ___ opened the door and walked out, straight _ towards the great bonfire that blazed in ___ the clearing in front of the cabin. From where he was now, Ted could get _the lay of the land clearly. The cabin was _ at one edge of a considerable clearing. _ About fifty feet in front of the camp the land fell away sharply, the remainder of = the clearing being some ten or fifteen feet lower than the portion upon which the cabin stood. This explained why they had been able _ to see the light of the fire but not the fire itself, and why they had not been able to ae see the crowd around the fire, although a they could hear the chattering of the as- sembled multitude quite clearly. = The man who had just left the cabin es was not Jarnoff. It was a tall, exceed- ingly gaunt and eadaverous man in the native garb. Ted was sure he was a stranger, although he could not see the man’s face. Confidently the gaunt Mexican strode to the edge of the little plateau and mounted an outeropping ledge of rock. The chattering died down almost instantly into an exeited whispering, and then into | utter silence. Tame Dramatically, the lone Mexican raised Bie his right arm, palm forward, a sort of salutation that was evideritly understood, for there was a great shout from the in- = visible speetators, and a rustkng of clothes =: and shifting bodies as the multitude re- ss turned the greeting. = The man knew how to wring the last drop of value from the situation. He WAH Due Ny ‘ Uns ai APPT a he Fete EP a? ADA Be 1,9 TA) a HW) , vi th yy + : \ ; \ ! , 4 slightly bowed in acknowledgment of the greeting that was returned him. Then, as silence settled down again, he slowly low- ered his arm. The silence was the utter silence of death itself, “My friends—my countrymen!” The deep, resonant voice was rich with emo- tion. “You are here to-night for a rea- son. You are here to hear a message— not from me but from another. One whose name is fraught with significance; one who is known as a power throughout this great country of ours; one feared and revered by all of us here and all those thousands we represent in this council. For to-night we are to receive the long- promised message of—the Scorpion!” A long, quivering sigh went up from the throats of the invisible throng, and as. though the sound of his name had been a signal, the Scorpion himself, arrayed in all his weird panoply, emerged from the cabin, ' Jarnoff stood motionless by the door a moment, and studied the silhouette of the speaker. Then, quickly, he dropped to his knees and started crawling, in very undignified fashion, towards the invisible multitude, E had gone but a few feet when Ted reached out a long arm from the surrounding darkness and jammed the muzzle of his revolver into Jarnoff’s ribs, “Not a sound, or you’re all through!” whispered Ted tensely. “Now, out with it—what’s the game?” “Damn you!’ snarled Jarnoff in a sibi- lant whisper, evidently recognizing Ted’s voice. “I'll see you in hell before—” Ted dug the muzzle of the gun into the Scorpion’s ribs with a force that brought a grunt from the man. “Quiet!” snapped Ted. “Another break like that and Fl be likely to unload this gun in you. I mean that, Jarnoff. Now, what’s the game? Quick, before it’s to late !’’ 7 In sharp, sullen, snarling whispers, Jar- noff explained, details coming at times only after a sharp prodding. But at last eo)