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Pulp Fiction, 1919 · page 160 of 192

All-Story Weekly, March 1, 1919 — page 160: what you’re looking at

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All-Story Weekly, March 1, 1919 — page 160: Pulp Fiction, 1919

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abst) yas x nWe o*« — ~ te —- "= Se = > —- . (— ——s 3 ~ = => * oS a a* — <a z ——" 3 «% > + - = - = <2 ae = ~ 7 a = > 7 < al —. . = § — —»- ' + Cute t_. - « od “ “A oe « * af ae é- a — “can ~ ~ a = =~ —— xs ~ jie <= —— an — _—s wT DS — SH 4 Y at, gi ix) ye A an a / 7 ‘ ‘ea bial Dp. hh wih HESS" nite Vt wid) 8 1) ae Pri “A picture. I don’t know how he got it. But it shows you and me. I’ve got my arm around you and—” He hesitated, but only for an instant. “ And your head is on my shoulder!” “ How extraordinary, Mr. Higgins!”’ “T know. But that’s what started me off telling him. I’m sorry now, but you see how it was. I couldn’t throw you down. “ Of course, it never happened—what the picture shows. But I wish to God it had!” Miss Dean began to nod understand- ingly. ““T see,” she said. ‘“‘ You were trying to _ give the picture a proper explanation.” “That’s it,’ said Higgins, gratefully. = ~ “Only I love you, too.” “That’s awfully good of you, Mr. Hig- gins. And it was very kind and thought- ful of you to try to explain the picture. But—” She shook her head. ~“ Don’t say it!” he pleaded. “T’m afraid I must.” groaned. ‘“ And he’ll come down here—” “TI don’t think so,” said Miss Dean, in- terrupting. ‘‘ He seems to be going away. _ Mr. March, too.” Higgins looked behind him again and saw that it was true. ““T don’t see why,” she added, with a slight frown, “he should have shown the picture to Mr. March.” “It’s because he’s sore,” declared Hig- gins. “I'll lick him for that.” “No; you mustn’t do that. It would be very embarrassing to me, so I ask you not to. ) The fisherman looked across at her, dis- consolate and worried. “Well, what am I going to do?” he asked. “He'll be asking you, sooner or later, and if you tell him you’re not going to marry me I’ll never hear the end of it. Honestly, don’t you think you’d better mar- ry me?” “Lots of us never do what is best for us,” answered Miss Dean, with a sigh. “We are perverse. Suppose I simply re- fuse to answer any questions on that sub- _ ject, in case he should mention it? Would a that do?” ALL-STORY WEEKLY. “Tt ‘ll leave me in an awful hole,” he * _ ~ <= bs : — - 4 ¥ — _ — = = ~ ~ < aS see a SO Va ae ee eo Pan SR ee mere : =e ee <a ov ~—h_ One ars — “a ~¢ = =e = ee od ee es at - i= ae te - sci SS —F. — — oe ae os = ee a ae = eS ~ = “Will you do that much?” he said, eagerly. ‘“‘T’ll decline to be cme euamned she said, firmly. Higgins sighed. “Well, that’s something,” he remarked, gratefully. “ But just remember, Miss Dean, I want you to marry me, anyhow.” ‘““T won’t forget,” she nodded. - Higgins felt that somehow he had reached an anticlimax, and he did not wish the in- terview to end thus. He wanted to leave her with a death-defying sentiment ringing in her ears. “And—and I’d wade through hell and high water to get you!” he bawled, as she turned away. “ That’s dear of you,” she answered, But she could not help wondering why — he did not begin by wading the creek. CHAPTER XXI. TWO NURSES, HE Grouch was sick. He had taken to his bed in the middle of the after- noon, but his plight was known to nobody until Mame went to the cabin with his supper. She found him squirming from side to side, gripping his head in his hands and groaning anon. Mame was shocked and - alarmed. “Oh, my!” she exclaimed. ‘ You’re sick, ain’t you?” He glared at her with an extremely bright pair of eyes. “You got a headache, Mr. March?” He rolled over until he faced the wall and made no answer. “Are you sufferin’ much pain?” she asked. 7 “Go away,” he answered, in a muffled voice. ‘“ An’ leave you here all alone?” Mame’s voice was indignant. - “ Get out!” She shook her head firmly, but he could not see that. Great pity filled Mame’s sen- sitive heart. To see this noble being lving stricken on his couch seemed the most cruel of tragedies.