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Pulp Fiction, 1925 · page 68 of 168

Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 11, 1925 — page 68: what you’re looking at

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Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 11, 1925 — page 68: Pulp Fiction, 1925

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at ‘ o E - a % - ~ 3 ~ é~ - v a ee oe as ? » — << x - ed > - Ps od Si a pe Ce en Ria al REE ae we Pe Be Nk ie OT th On on gy 0 cea” eg furnishings. 222 “Uh-huh. He’d better! The double- crossin’ crook, we’d rip him apart! Well, boys, mebbe he got away this time, I dunno; but mebbe this bum’s lyin’.”” He barked at Steve. “ Where’s Paula?” “None of your business.” The big man’s hands clenched and his thick lips tightened as he advanced toward Steve. “You get fresh with us and they’ll wrap you in a box, see? We ain’t here for fun! We’ve been bunked, razzed, double-crossed, and flim-flammed, see? We're sore, see? The cops are gettin’ cnto us and so are the Federal dicks. Get that? We’re lookin’ for one fat traitor and a smooth society jane that’s done a lot of dirty work behind our backs! Get that? We’re goin’ to send ’em to hell, where they belong!” Suddenly. Steve observed that this fellow _ wheezed through his nose and slobbered at the mouth, giving a brutish aspect which made the ranchman admit a qualm of un- rest. : “You’re ’way off!” he protested. ‘I don’t know anything about Steinemann; he may be all you say; but the rest of it’s wrong!” “ He lies!” yelped the slim man. “ This is the fella that licked Hymie Baum! What became of Hymie? Where is he, hey?” “He left here,” answered Steve, truth- fully. “I never saw him again!” “Fishy! Fishy! Everything’s crooked here! Make this guy cough up, Mike! He’s got somethin’ on his mind!” ‘““ Wait a moment!” Steve voiced his real amazement. ‘You mean to say that you fellows can rush into a house like this and do whatever you want?” He looked from one man to another. “Is it plain gall or does somebody give you permission?” ‘We'll search this house, yeh!” retorted the slim fellow. ‘We paid for it, ain’t we?” He swung a hand toward the fine “Booze!” he jeered. “ All booze! We done the dirty work, they got the jack! We paid for this house, mister!” It was largely exaggeration, but the victimized gangsters nodded in unison. “ Well, what of it?” demanded Steve, in Get next to yourself! — ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. desperation. ‘“‘ Does that give you right of entry?” | “Aw, can it!” advised the big fellow. “* Come on, you guys.» Search the dump!” “No!” forbade Steve. The big fellow reached up an arm and shoved Steve out of the way. The outraged ranchman lashed out with an irritated fist, but he was off balance and he did not register except to make the burly man leer. “Oh, you wanna fight, eh?” The big fellow’s left hand slipped behind Steve’s head and his right fist drew back. The ranchman saw it coming and tried to writhe out of the way, but—crash—a thunderbolt struck him between the eyes. His whole body felt the terrific impact, even to his sagging knees. He tumbled back- ward and landed on the stairs. “And you’ve got the nerve to do that!” he gasped. He scrambled to his feet, taking a step upward. The big fellow approached and started a vicious overhand swing which arched his body backward for an instant. In that flash of time the desperate Steve saw an opening, unethical and unorthodox, banned by all the rules of knightly com- bat, but so tempting that the distracted ranchman could not resist. He kicked. The toe of his heavy new shoe sank into the man’s midriff. With a hissing sound like a punctured tire, the fellow went straight backward to the front wall, where he col- lapsed and lay moaning and groaning, pur- ple faced, writhing in a painful endeavor to get back his wind. “He don’t fight fair!” screeched one of the others. ‘“‘ How can I?” defended Steve. “* Get him!” yelped the tall fellow. They charged toward the steps. Steve thought of flight toward the upper floor, but the hurtling mass was upon him. He knocked the foremost back. Another stum- bled and grabbed Steve’s knees. He won a leg free and swung a knee into the fel- low’s face. The third visitor hurdled over the others. Steve’s free arm lashed out. The other reeled, but struck back. Steve warded him off and shoved him downward. The trio returned to the struggle. The big fellow, near the door, began to regain “com chooks pe (©) ee at ee ae ht, Si a SO” LIN Uf ins in STS te ee” eg ee a a Nad SON) ns ie ine a RL oe , May le I oe NN iE aE et TY Pa we Ot PT ie eG ee OE rn Se I EM rl ee ENGR NS eS SE ge ; mm. L 4 oe