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Pulp Fiction, 1947 · page 69 of 132

Avon Modern Short Story Monthly #36 — page 69: what you’re looking at

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Avon Modern Short Story Monthly #36 — page 69: Pulp Fiction, 1947

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i eae vig’ ye ee. «| rhe ioe yas . , 7 , ‘ ’ pn ingle! "4 Sta AT) My f * Lb \ eee ee ate 7 yal yas ae ? ~_ x Ay < i , tS " : ah ee Ty 2% Nac og VL any ian Ee SD Ge A eel Thi. Sf, ~ AE Be re he , ‘ b ee ad yo hea eae LS ie pe re i f * ) “ee 4 imibet é 1h a" he iG ee TO A ge et eg EE NIE a ote ta! WPS ot ete Lit ee BP tN sa mi oie fe. Pm. * Lar + a Oe a “He saw pee one get ee The de had ant oul into ‘the | igh ee a ae a shadows. Unsuspecting, he stepped forth, | | ue ees “Where is this messenger ?” | The door through which he had come slammed addy belie as : . him, and he turned to see Melazzo in the act of bolting it with a. \ , hs Pee ef eo ‘ ’ > * a r ‘ 4) 3, si dagger to prevent any one from following that way—for the room — i had another door opening upon the inner corridor. | i | Instead, Melazzo might have employed his dagger to stab Andreas _ . S behind, and so have made an instant end. But it happened to be — * oa known that Andreas wore an amulet—a ring that his mother had — given him—which rendered him invulnerable to steel or poison. Ad - ick was the credulity of his age, such the blind faith of those men in the miraculous power of that charm, that none of them so much as a 5 a attempted to test it with a dagger. It was for the same reason that no ae recourse was had to the still easier method of disposing of him ye oh, poison. Accepting the amulet at its legendary value, the conspirators | had resolved that he must be strangled. . eee As he turned now they leapt upon him, and, taking him unawares, a bore him to the ground before he could realize what was happening. a Here they grappled with him, and he with them, He was endowed He ae with the strength of a young bull, and he made full use of it He rose, beating them off, to be borne down again, bellowing the we while for help. He smote out blindly, and stretched Morcone half es | senseless with a blow of his great fist. ; i. Seeing how difficult he proved to strangle, they must have cursed — a % that amulet of his. He struggled to his knees again, then to his feet, $5 and, at last, with bleeding face, leaving tufts of his fair hair in their _ a om murderous hands, he broke through and went bounding down the hee loggia, screaming as he ran, until*he came to his wife’s door. Against Hs A that he hurled himself, calling her. Ne “Giovanna! Giovanna! For the love of God crucified! Open! Rake Open! I am being murdered!” ae From within came no answer—utter silence. Rees a “Giovanna! Giovanna!” He beat frenziedly upon the door, Still no answer, which yet was answer enough. Oa The stranglers, momentarily discomfited, scared, too, lest his cri ss | should rouse the convent, had stood hesitating after he broke from yee