ComicBooks.com Register / Loginit's free!

Pulp Fiction, 1862 · page 28 of 120

Beadle's Dime Novels No. 38: The Wrong Man — page 28: what you’re looking at

📖 Open the full issue in the page-flip reader →
Beadle's Dime Novels No. 38: The Wrong Man — page 28: Pulp Fiction, 1862

A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1862. 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.

80 THE WRONG MANX. of my business,” said the postmaster. “Charles Dudley pays me every Saturday night in good solid gold, and I axes no questions. He gets letters, too, as reg’lar as the mail comes. which, most of them, has ‘New Orleans’ stamped onto the outside, He told me when he fust come here that he didr’t expect to stay no longer than two or three weeks; and its now more than two months. I doesn’t wish to meddle with other folks’ business, but it does strike me queer that he should stay around here so long.” “ Exceedingly natural, beyond all peradventure, that it should strike you thus,” said Mr. Perkins. “What was that you observed, Mr. Perkings?” asked the postmaster, who had heard every word, but was afraid the others had not. The teacher repeated his remark. _ “You have saw the gentleman, then, Mr. Perkings?” “esumed the postmaster. “T have observed him several times.” “T’ve hearn tell,’ commenced the shoemaker, who, it was poticeable, had “ hearn tell” of many nameless things, “ that Mr. Dudley stays here for his own good.” Several crew great sighs at this astounding intelligence. “T have s’picioned that too,” added the tailor, who again got up and sat down to throw off his embarrassment. * What is your opinion, Mr. Perkings ?” “My opinion of what?” The tailor was thrown into such consternation by this inted question—the teacher looking directly in his face at the same time—that he blew his nose several times, coughed, and finally stammered out that he thought it was bad weather yut of doors. “ What name =) gts cater asked the shoemaker, with & very innocent look. “Mr. Charles Dudley.” “Wonder if that’s his name. I’ve hearn tell that it wasn’t.” “ Who told you so?” demanded Dodge, with Compearebie asperity. “ Perhaps it wouldn't be best to tell. Folks don't like to have their names in everybody’s mouth.” “TI guess if Nathan Dodge may be allowed to express his : COMMEIOO<S.COM = 4 — i