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Pulp Fiction, 1922 · page 16 of 200

Adventure Magazine Cover — page 16: what you’re looking at

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Adventure Magazine Cover — page 16: Pulp Fiction, 1922

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ay ae el Rake em tele. Ota. bee ¥ rt Og Wee een > ee Sh. a; a be eng Ps iP - 5 ae. 4 ee ee eS et te ig oe age nln es 7 : IO hat was off, and his blond hair was now red —deep, wet red. He had been shot in the head. Il WE LIFTED him and bore him to the fire. ' For the moment we forgot the girl and everything else except this stout- hearted, two-handed comrade of ours. We had seen him a prisoner, but defiant, in the power of savage enemies. We had watched him walk alone into the stronghold of an- other brutal foe and shoot that foe dead. We had traveled many a weary mile with him, endured all sorts of discomfort and danger with him, and found him always ready to laugh in the face of death and al- ways able to defeat it. And now he hung limp in our grip, helpless, senseless, shot down by some sneaking coward. Softly we laid him down on the ground and swiftly we examined him. Then the oaths that had frozen in our throats came _ tumbling out in the warmth of sudden hope. His heart still beat. ‘Water!’ I demanded. Pedro seized a blazing stick from the fire and disappeared over the edge of the bank. Both of us had forgotten the little brook near by. While I waited I peered closely at the senseless man’s wound, then felt it with my fingers. My hope mounted. The bullet had not gone through the skull. It seemed that Pedro was gone a long time before he reappeared with the water. And then he brought it, not in a gourd from the canoes, but in his hat. “Lourenco!”’ he breathed hoarsely. ‘The canoes are gone!” “Gone?” “Gone. Both gone. And—”’ he glanced swiftly around once more ‘‘—so is the sen- horita.”’ I sprang up. For a moment the only thought in my mind was that the girl had done the shooting and fled. Then, ashamed of myself, I knelt again beside our stricken comrade and commenced working to. bring him back to life. Pedro made two more trips to the water before Senhor Tom’s eyes opened. When they did.open, they rested on me with a blank stare. “God be praised!’ I cried. “You are Adventure alive again, senhor. Lie still a little while. You have a bad head.”’ He made no answer. His eyelids flick- ered, he blinked a few times, and then his eyes stayed open. Looking down into them, I began to feel chilly. Something was wrong; something was missing in that blue stare. Slowly I moved my head back, watching him all the time. His eyes did not turn to follow me. I passed a hand above them. He did not blink. Then I jabbed my fingers at them as if about to gouge him. Even then he gave no sign that he saw. “Vive Deus!’ Pedro swore softly. We stared at each other, as shocked as we had been by the discovery of the wounded man. Senhor Tom was blind. If we had doubted it we should have had proof the next moment. His lips moved. ‘“What’s up?” he asked hoarsely. ‘‘What ails the fire? It gives no light.”’ We looked at him pityingly. The fire- light was bright on his face. He could feel its heat, smell its smoke, but he could not see it. “We have concealed it with mud,” I lied. “Tt is almost out, too, and the night i is black. What has happened to you?” He wet his lips before answering. His face knotted as if from pain and thought combined. “Don’t know,” he said. “Something slammed me over the head, I guess. Seems as if I heard a shot, but can’t be sure. I was getting wood—dropped a stick—bent to pick it up—head seemed to explode. Give me some water.” He gulped down a long drink from the hat. When he spoke again his voice was stronger. “Why the don’t you fellows light a match or something? You must be owl- eyed. What’s up, I asked you? Is Miss Marshall all right?’ ' “Not so loud, comrade!’ Pedro cau- tioned him. “She is asleep. You have been knocked out for a long time.” “Oh, that’s it.” Before we could stop him, he sat up. His» face twisted and turned white. “Gee, I’m sick!” he whispered, as we steadied him. ‘‘Head aches horribly.”’ “T told you to lie still,” I scolded. ‘Now keep quiet and let us lift you.” With that I motioned toward the tambo, and Pedro nodded.. We raised him and Gomichbooks (EO)