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Pulp Fiction, 1920 · page 110 of 164

Argosy, Vol. 122, No. 1 — page 110: what you’re looking at

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Argosy, Vol. 122, No. 1 — page 110: Pulp Fiction, 1920

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100 with the linen ribbon attached, he closed the trunk, then left the reom by the win- dow, carrying with him his spoil. He had no more than gained the veranda when the little Emilio rushed in, thrust his key inte the lock he contrelled, turned the latter, and after extinguishing the light once more departed from the reom. Clearly he had escaped for a moment on seme pretext or other from Zorrilla in order to relieve his anxiety; but so short had been his absence that it never occurred to him to make sure of the trunk’s contents, which in turn lifted a weight from Moffat’s mind. Hours might pass before the two brothers would con- tinue the inspection of the papers. The next incident bearing upen Jerry’s ticklish position was the sudden opening of a door and the appearance of a man scarcely twenty paces away on the veranda who bere a lantern. Moreover, the man walked toward him. For the youth to dart across the veranda was to be discovered. Instead, therefore, holding the wallet in one hand and grasp- ing his shoes with the other, he again put his leg over the window-sill of the Bar- baneras’s room and slid inside. If one of the brethers now should chance te return, Jerry indeed would find himself in a predica- ment—and that was a contingency he de- termined should not arise. Stealing ahead, he found in the darkness the knob of the door, swung the latter open, stepped forth into a corridor. A dim light illumined this. The end, he perceived, gave upon a stair, so thither he went, praying that he might not encounter any servant. Somewhat he heard muffled voices in talk, What he desired above all else was an exit upon the grounds, but apparently none was in this part of the house. He reached the stairway, halted te listen. Then a door was flung open and the volume of the-voices he had heard swelled propor- tionately. They were the voices of Her- nando Zorrilla and of the Barbaneras and of other men; they were advancing toward him from wherever they had been; and if he continued to stand stock-still he would be seen for a certainty. Up the stair he flew in his stocking feet, three steps at a time. There also in the THE ARGOSY. upper hallway was a light, candles burning in a wall bracket. A short distance on a door was ajar. With his enemies moving about below and with the possibility of some other member of the household, where a very considerable activity yet seemed mani- fest, coming upon him, any hiding-place was a good hiding-place. He slipped into the room, which was dark and silent, after which he began a groping around until he located a window. But the window was fast, nor could he discover its catch by feeling about. At last he lowered himself into a chair against which. he had struck; and there, not in the least knowing whose chamber or what its furnishings this might be that he had entered, he sat hark- ening, waiting and trying to formulate some plan of action. The darkness hid him, true. His presence was unsuspected, true. But he was in the very heart of the Zorrilla’s stronghold, if such it might be called, and some places are easier to get into than out of. Then footsteps sounded in the passage- way. A glow of light grew before the partly open door, stopped there. - CHAPTER XIIL. THE HEAD OF THE HOUSE. XCEPT to wrap the paper wallet in his wet coat that it might remain unseen, Jerry made no movement. A hand pushed open the door; the candle-flame came in sight; then the tall and proud-visaged old Spaniard whom the youth had glimpsed at the Barbaneras’ room stepped wtihin. He walked forward to a stand where he placed the candle in a holder; only when he faced partly about did he behold, since the light had been in his eyes, the unexpected visitor sitting motionless, damp of hair and clothes, and silent. Hernando Zorrilla stared. Next he strode forward as if to inspect this intruder, so utterly unexpected and so like a creature cast here by the storm. Under the old man’s fierce mien and ruthless black eyes Jerry felt his heart quake. In answer to a sharp question in Spanish he replied: ‘“ I speak only English.”’ cComiclbooks.com