ComicBooks.com Register / Loginit's free!

Pulp Fiction, 1920 · page 109 of 208

Adventure Magazine Cover — page 109: what you’re looking at

📖 Open the full issue in the page-flip reader →
Adventure Magazine Cover — page 109: Pulp Fiction, 1920

A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1920. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.

📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

‘ a2 Se + 0 oe > we Fe ~ = we rs ~~. o, wan veteran. ‘‘We traveled all night so’s we could have a full day on quitting this end of the pass. Ye got a sick man up to your place. Some of yer men fetched him in from the road jest as we passed through the gate.” —“A sick man?” repeated Uncle Dick. “Wal, I reckon he’d been shot up by somebody. The Injun squaw seemed to know him. We was in a hustle to get along an’ didn’t stick to learn nothin’. Sure them cusses behind ye won’t sneak after us an’ try to raise our hair?” “They’re my friends,” said Uncle Dick. “That makes ’em all right, but I never see a Injun yet but what I had a sneakin’ _ suspicion that he’d got a scalp or two hid on him somewhere.” Uncle Dick suppressed a smile as he wondered what the freighter would say and believe if he could glance under Yel- low Bear’s blanket. “None of the Arapahoes will harm you. Down below you may strike Satanta and some of his Kiowas, but they’re few in numbers. Cuss them out and keep up a bold front, and they won’t fuss with you any gh? F alling back beside the girl, he began to speculate on who the sick man could be. Some one the Quail knew, he finally decided. As Miss Isobel had been hard put to it to keep awake while her guardian conferred with the freighter, she had heard nothing of their conversation, so Uncle Dick deemed it wise to say nothing about the sick or wounded man until he had in- vestigated. When they came up to the gate, the Mexican attendant gave a yell on see- ing the Indians and would have bolted, had he not heard Uncle Dick’s stentorian voice ordering him back. Recognizing his em- ployer, the Mexican hurriedly raised the gate, cowering beneath the cold gaze of Yellow Bear. The Quail came waddling from the cook- house, ignoring her people in her zeal to reach the girl. “Preety,” she cried, lifting the drowsy Isobel from the pony and patting her cheek, but there was nothing in the Quail’s de- portment that would lead a stranger to infer that Miss Isobel had been stolen and had unexpectedly returned. _ “The Quail will say nothing about the | se weate srougit ary 2 ee ea i ns ~ > = o- - <pee iF Sn ~— a) a ay aa = “~, Se ame os Sy es eal a bee ieee _— ee bake Bas Spee ee Se i = ee ¥- se > See Poe a Pe Mountain Uncle Dick. had no sleep since she was stolen. her to bed at once.. she wakes up.” Turning to Yellow Bear, he pointed to ~ the cook-house, saying: “Camp back of that. bring you food. Here is Big Knife. will bring presents to you.” Big Knife, smoking some of his patron’s tobacco and looking exceedingly well-fed, ambled forward. Receiving Uncle Dick’s orders concerning the two mule-loads of trade-goods left by Keene, he started for the shed back of the corral. hurried into the house. The Arapaho woman was busy with her charge in the latter’s room. Uncle Dick passed to a guest-room and peeped in. A man was stretched on the cot, slumbering heavily. Tiptoeing to his side, Uncle Dick gave a glance at the haggard face and exclaimed aloud:. “By Hen! If it ain’t Joe Peace! Why— why, Joe, how did you work it?” Peace opened his eyes and for a moment stared at the mountaineer without seem- ing to recognize him. Then he cried: ‘Where is Miss Mary? Is she safe?” “T wouldn’t be back if she wasn’t,” said Uncle Dick with a wide grin. ‘‘If you ain’t able to talk don’t say a word, but I’m dying to know how it all happened.” “You ain’t any more curious than I am to know how the you got down into that hole. I thought I had gone crazy when I saw you,” murmured Peace. “Take a look at my arm, and I'll give my yarn and then hear yours. The Quail dressed it. Reckon she did all that was necessary.” Uncle Dick drew up a stool and removed the bandage from the upper part of Joe’s right arm. There he found a bullet hole through the flesh near the shoulder, but the bone was unharmed. “Bump on the head hurt worse’n the bullet,” informed Peace, as Uncle Dick redressed the hurt. “And I made myself a present of that. Lucky bump at that, too. They was fetching me up the road and it was black as ink. I managed to work my hands free and untie the rope round my feet. I spurred to one side and threw myself from the horse. They fired and, by luck, got me through the arm. I don’t remember being hit, for when I He struck the oud it cami knocked ai , ah Baesncas a See ee My people will . Uncle Dick © = ee —— ‘The riiedtitiné-woman ‘fas ce a Get. ~ Give her food when aes = “ COI WCBoGice c com