Pulp Fiction, 1914 · page 60 of 268
The Argosy, Vol. 75, No. 4 — page 60: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1914. 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.
~~ ae oe eS ie eee eee a Se ee) ae ae eee Ses , ~ —— Pz = ie 2 Sa, ee en) eee ey A ni Ae ag he SS ne ag ee SS Se lr ——— oo aa aa Oe, a > 1 et x = = 762 THE ARGOSY. ‘Search me!’’ was the, wondering reply from the unexpectedly upset man. A second pushed past the first to venture, and he fell back precipitately. Radford rushed forward in unre- strained curiosity. He stared at a scene perfectly. de- void of actors, men or beasts. Big Red was not in sight. ‘“Come on, you dubs; there’s ne one here!” he shouted. ‘ There’s a blame-fool idiot here! ”’ a voice like a trumpet assured him. He turned to see Big Red sliding out from behind a rock and approaching him with anything but a gracious. ex- pression. “Do you happen to be calling me that?’ ‘Ted demanded, lost to the in- terests that had brought him to the spring. “Tt ain't no happenstance! I done it a purpose; an’ I mean it!” Red bel- lowed. : It’s a land of high lights, high spots, and high tempers, that wonderful country where nature paints impres- sionist pictures and acts like the Old Nick himself when she incorporates in man and something riles her. Radford and Big Red flew at each other with an undiverted intensity that held the cowboys still for an instant. In that instant the mischief was done. Big Red landed a blow on Ted’s care- lessly presented chin that sent him reel- ing backward and left him, white and weak, clutching at a rock above the basin. . He tottered and swung for a second, gamely trying to rally his scattered wits to gain control of his enervated muscles. But he could not. Instead, his weaving body unbalanced the rock, which sat on the edge of a little cliff, It shoved over into the basin. Blind- ly he clung to it. Before he realized what he was doing, he plunged with it into the cold waters of Apache Spring. He ‘sunk, thought he was drowning, struggled wildly, felt something snap in his head, and his brain cleared. He rose and found himself standing in water to his waist, while every energy he possessed was violently engaged in spitting from his protesting mouth the water he had gulped. He coughed and strangled and gasped. The men on the rocks saw the lately indignant Big Red stare for a moment at Radford, then fall on the ground and roar and roll. Ted kept spitting. He stood there in the cold water, apparently lost to every other interest in the world ex- cept his spitting. There was something so outlandish, so unaccountable, in his— spittmg and in the wildly rolling and roaring foreman that the others just stared, with open, speechless mouths. Still Radford spat. nly now he swore, too. Finally Big Red. forced his lips to utter words instead of mere noise. “Say, ye cain’t blame the critters fur goin’, kin ye?” he called, only to burst into another howl. Radford hfted his eyes. He hada moment’s vision of something besides his own concerns. His blue eyes be- gan to shine in the moonlight. The six cowboys were ranged like buzzards on a fence along the rocks, and they looked as solemn. “ Say, boys, I had a bath last week. Ill get out so you can have a drink. I know you're thirsty.” So did they. Radford waded ashore. Red sat up and rubbed his eyes, as if he wanted to see all of what might happen. Nonplused by the situation, but eager for a drink from the celebrated spring after their hot, dusty ride, they flung themselves down full length and took great gulps of the cold water. Simultaneously they rose and began —to spit. A CHAPTER IX. CATCHING A TARTAR. RADFORD sat holding his sides. He had laughed till he cried. Big Red ‘\ ~ eCOPMicloooKs (C@)