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Pulp Fiction, 1925 · page 70 of 184

Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 7, 1925 — page 70: what you’re looking at

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Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 7, 1925 — page 70: Pulp Fiction, 1925

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x AOU IT UMAR MET RMR eLeome TAN See MV RROPTE tir c rnc RTS OI MRLEMT IE CTR 7 SI x e sy ,f 5 ! Fu + " i ) ere . : ‘AS ( OP to Ni ie ct MG ernie) ; TEA ROL Se Cor) TR MY MY kad . a Baus a cht ‘ ~»' ay tw FARE ALL 1 a The RAE Dee . «+540 _ Morning, Sam. Sam! ed to and everything and—oh, where did I put that hate” | ‘wads going to telephone you~ Sad ask you to come home early, and then I was actually afraid, you went off with such a grouch this Dinner’s all attend- «© Well, where. is—well, wait!” Samuel = micied= = - Can’t, Sam! Jimmy Burgess has been phoning me all day; he wants me to go to” that garden party at the Thorndyke’s and it’s the one thing I’ve been dying” to ‘do and—oh, there it is!” | “Are you—are you going now!” — “Yes, and Dll be home here just as early. as I can, Sam,” said the hurried young woman, as she made for the door. past one—or two 0 ‘clock at the most and—” “Well, all right, but just stand still for one minute, can’t youP”’ Samuel demand- ed. ‘‘ Where’s Helen?” — Quite startled, Josephine did stand still, “Oh—yes—Helen,” she answered. Td almost forgotten, Sam. Helen isn’t coming home to-night!” — ‘She isn’t what?” Samuel gasped. “No, she phoned in about three. She was captured by that Mrs—Mrs.—oh, what’s the woman’s beastly name, Sam? The one who gave half a million to the _ Foundation last year; you know the woman I mean. Well, anyway, Mrs.—whatever her’ name is—is giving some sort of scien- tific society shindig at her country place to- night and she insisted that Helen go along and read her paper. Nell said there was no way of getting out. of it.” Samuel drew one deep breath. “She didn’t mention when she was com- ing home, did she?” “No, she didn’t Sam,” said Josephine. and moved on toward the door. Samuel drew another deep breath. “ How can I get in touch with Helen. on the’ telephone?” he inquired darkly. — ~“ How?” Josephine, briefly, came almost to‘a standstill again. “ Why—’ m sure I don’t know, Sam. If—if I could think of her name, you might—but, even so, we don’t know where her country place is, do wer ce “Hali-— Ss It’s somewhere within motoring dis- ____ tance of New York, of course, because they ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. were just starting when Nell phoned, but —what do you want to phone about?” “Nothing!” Samuel said, coldly, inci- sively. “T haven’t the ‘slightest curiosity about my wife’s movements, of course. Don’t let me detain you, Josephine!” “No, I won't, old thing—thanks for be- ing so nice about it!”? Miss Meeker tossed back to him, as she fled, laughing happily. Perhaps a minute, Samuel merely looked about him. He was not angry; he was somewhat astonished at that realization. He was rather chilly, somewhere inside, and a black depression was coming ves upon. him swiftly. He turned at last to meet the grave eye of his daughter—and for an in- stant they only smiled at one another and Samuel turned more chilly. se Pretty as she was, normal child as she was, nevertheless chere were times when, looking at his” daughter, Samuel had the | -queerest sense that she was about three. hundred years old and that she had ac- quired saddening wisdom all along the route! This was one of the times. She was in his arms now and Samuel was holding her quite fiercely. And how she had disengaged herself and sighed. © “You brought those flowers for mother?” she said. “ I—yes, honey,” Saeniiel sighed. “Tt’s too bad, dad, but—don't you care. Oh—and the candy! ” Samuel, with a dreadful effort, _yanked to. his” visage -what passed for a normal fatherly grin. “T guess I brought the candy for you kids,”’ he lied cheerfully. “ But: es before dinner, Dot.” — Dinner could have been more cheerful. Despite his best efforts, conversation had a way of ceasing to exist, completely as a drop of water in ese sunshine. The younger Samuel was turning rather morose, although this did not affect his appetite; several times he asked anxiously of his mother, and Samuel replied jocosely. ‘Not that he could go on replying jocosely for any definite period, though. Even be- fore dinner was over he knew that the truth of the » tragedy would have to be communi- cated ‘somehow, even to this. little five-year- old a heartlesly abandoned to. the care comicboo S com