Pulp Fiction, 1886 · page 3 of 16
Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 460 — page 3: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1886. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
* y Be ¢ ‘ F prey 4 * 7 > — : oo * an pee S44 AS rs <a” Cy eee ne . f j 4° » | : Tc ‘ ST aT eae eee ae aa + " *. . xs 7 sf - resorted to every trick and trap which his pro- lific brain could invent, | This wes what he called finesse. Of course, Luke did not discover all this in a day; his eyes were opened gradually, and it was not until after events to be related, that he ar- rived at a full comprehension. Lorimer’s legal quarters consisted of tivo rooms, in the second of which his clerk sat and wielded a pen which invariably ‘scratched ” dolefully. This room was called the ‘Inner Temple,” and Mr. Marmaduke Tripp, the clerk, was the presiding genius. He was a man between thirty and fifty—it would be hard to locate him more definitely. He was extremely thin, beardless and pale, and his hair was a tow-colored forest, making him look top-heavy. He was, however, bland, nim- ble and light-footed, and made an excellent ally for his employer. ‘Luke had been two weeks in his new situation when he overheard a conversation waich led to unexpected results, When Lorimer arrived one morning both Tripp and Luke were writing, the clerk in the a Temple, and the boy near the connecting oor. The lawyer went through his mail, and then Marmaduke came to the door and coughed slightly. rimer turned. What is it, Tripp?” ** Are you busy, sir?” ** Not gator ‘‘Then I would like to see you, if you please.” Lorimer promptly entered the Inner Temple and sat down. **Go on!” he directed. **'You will remember our agreement, sir, that when I bring you any business I am to re- ceive—” ‘Never mind the preface,” said the lawyer, with a wave of his hand. ‘I’ve heard it scores of times. Come to business! What fish have you hooked now?” ** Will you kindly peruse this letter, sir?” ** Read it aloud,” Lorimer directed, impatient- ly. Marmaduke bowed and proceeded to obey; and thus it was that Luke, sitting near the door, heard every word. His work was not such as to demand close application, and the reader’s words came to his ears without an effort to lis- ten. Mr. Tripp read: ‘*No. — FLEET STREET, l ** LONDON, ENGLAND, May 6, 18—. | **Dear Sir:—Your prompt answer to our adver- tisement was unexpected by us, but we are pleased to hear that you believe you can help us. The facts of the case are as follows: Lionel Hugh Bering- Nea gentleman, of this city, has departed. this life and left property to the amount of one hundred thousand pounds. So far as is known, he has no heir whatever in England, and the only prospect of finding one anywhere is to trace Rupert Bering- brooke. cousin of Lionel, who left London for the United States in 1882, Rupert, if alive, is now sixty- eight years of age, having been born in 1812. Noth- ing has been heard from him since, but if he is alive, or has left descendants, he, or they, are heirs to the £100,000,. The money will be paid on proof of identi- fication, less our fee, reward to finder of sxid beir. or heirs,and otber costs. If you can help us, let us hear from you at once. ‘“WARBLACK BROTHERS, “To M, Tripp, Esq. * Solicitors.” ~ The clerk laid down the letter and looked up. “*Humph!” said Lorimer; ‘ there is money in that; but do you know Rupert Beringbrooke?” ** No, sir.” ‘¢Then we may as well hunt for a needle in a haymow.” | ‘Ah! but, sir, I know of Beringbrooke.” .“ Ha! that is better. What about him?” _** He is dead—died in 1845,” ** Heirs?” ‘‘He left two children, both of whom were then very young; Alfred, aged three; Eunice, aged one. ‘‘ What about these children?” “Alfred is dead. Blew his brains out in 867.” ‘‘Humph! mighty bad taste. But you seem to have the matter down fine. heirs?” ‘“*He left a family; but, sir, I think we had not consider them.” ‘Why not?” ‘First, because I do not know where they en oe} secondly, because I think we can do better ’ * Just so! Let me hear what scheme is in your prolific brain.” = Mr. bie bowed, smiled and blushed. “You honor me, Mr. Lorimer. Well, in a ‘ re. word, Ican put my hand on Eunice’s heirs at ‘ ' Mies ine - | tad if > a on se Did he leave ; . *. " A TS 7 oo ne Thy - CU & dele FF ‘< ‘ T" 3 YC ihy » a. a c ~ r = he 2 - ® eneh = as om Mad wr 4ey - * 4 fee _ * . % . fp t eek YRS te 78 PS een < * = ‘ ey en re yr The Lawyer’s Shadow. any moment. She, too, is. dead; but, having previously married, she left a son. e can make whatever terms we see fit with this boy and his father—I know them well—and we can’t say as much in regard to Alfred’s heirs.” ‘* But what if Eunice’s heir should insist on justice being done the other branch?” Mr. Tripp smiled broadly. ‘*Eunice’s heir, sir, has been so well tutored by his worthy father that he would not divide an apple with another person unless he was obliged to do so.” ‘‘In that case, we may not be able to drive our bargain.” ‘* No fear of that. Our prospective clients are wholly in the dark; they don’t even know of Lionel Beringbrooke; and we can make them pay well. I know them like a book, and assure you nobody could be more pliant to deal with— or more pliant of conscience.” ‘* Very good, Tripp, very good,” said the law- yer, approvingly. ‘‘ We will leave Alfred and his tribe wholly out of question, and take the other branch. Butis there nothing in the evi- dence which proves Eunice’s claim, that might also show up Alfred too conspicuously? Of course, in business, we can’t let folly track us, and we will dispose of Alfred with a snap of our fingers, if he will be disposed of. But may not the legal heirs pop up?” Luke Hartley had heard all this with growing dismay. With his ideas of justice it would be a great wrong to ignore the real heirs and put others forward, and he was shocked to find that Mr. Lorimer would do such a thing. He felt that he should be haunted by mental ictures of the wronged heirs, who were, possi- bly. as poor as he, and he would gladly have heard no more; but his orders were to remain at the desk and write, and this undisguised conversation would steal into his ears, whether or no. He wondered that Lorimer should talk so plainly before a mere office-boy, but an explana- tion of the matter was afterward reached. To the lawyer’s last objection Tripp replied: ‘‘There is danger of that—just a trifle—but the danger can be partially removed by a bold step on our part.” ‘** How so, if you don’t know where Alfred’s heirs are?” Lorimer inquired. ‘Tt is not from them that I fear trouble. The widow of Alfred will certainly never make her- self known; she dares not, even though she might see this advertisement of Warblack Bro- thers, which she prooably will not do. What we have to fear most is documentary evidence, and this can be got rid of.” ** What is the evidence?” Marmaduke glanced toward the other room, where Luke sat writing, and lowered his voice, ‘‘This isnot the place to explain that, sir, but, if you will meet me this evening, you shall learn.” **Come to my house.” **'No, Mr. Lorimer. You know where Gray Stone Church is, don’t you?” *“* The antique pile, just out of town?” ** Vea, sir,’ ‘**T have seen it.” ** Very well; meet me there at eight o’clock this evening and all shall be settled.” ‘*Are you mad, Tripp? Why should I go there, so far out of town?” the lawyer asked, in amazement. Tripp leaned nearer and said something in a voice too low to reach Luke’s ears. Lorimer re- plied, and several low-spoken remarks passed between them. Then a brief silence was broken by the lawyer: ‘This is a serious matter. If we are dis- covered, the law can take hold of us with a ven- geance.” ‘‘ Nothing venture, nothing have,” the clerk replied, coolly. ‘‘ Remember that we are to dic- tate our terms to those we set up as heirs, and if we don’t get a fat sum it is our own fault.” **'You are sure of them?” “*T am, sir.” ** What is their name?” ‘** Littleton. Eunice married Peter Littleton in 1864, The only child she left was born one year later and, consequently, isnow fifteen years old. He sells papers on the street, for the fam- ily—Littleton is married ‘again—are poor as church mice. This boy, whom we select for our heir, is named Percy Littleton.” Luke Hartley started. The name was not a new one to him, nor was the bearer thereof a stranger. He had known him for several months, but never to his pleas- sure. Weak of both body and mind, young Lit- tleton was a peevish, disagreeable young fellow ee ' eS Pe a ae et becvaks Molt rs ~ a7 * ow * 2 & fs a > OS athe Se < by, *\ ~ o. F 7 > re v7 ya - > + 4 eS « ws 4 we, PY * - a « . - < - - dle. of "a se ’™ ? or iP te ct A, | y tear “@ h) f | me —— eee eee ee eee —_———— ee mA " . ? a. 7 ~—— ines rl ie a * | oe : a _— wee ae mee, — 1 * f ~~ ae - © 7 - E ‘ ; ff &i« — = ek = Laat] = fy a . “~~ oe \ P Re —~ a | te ~ an ‘ es ° « Va y \ Aa eA ye - : ; ee 9 | ( | | -) | e ; . . ~ with an over-exalted opinion of himself; an ar- rogant, conceited and vain youth, with nothing of which he could justly be vain. Aspiring to be ruler of the section where he saw fit to sell his papers, he and Luke had clashed more than once; and the latter was cordially hated be- cause his superior agility enabled him to outdo Littleton. Luke now became deeply interested in the case. He knew Percy well enough to be sure he would agree to any dishonorable scheme pro- posed by Marmaduke Tripp, and would never give a thought to the rightful heirs who were being robbed of their due. “Well,” continued Lorimer, *‘I want to see this boy and his father. It is important that they should be correctly estima before our hand is shown. I trust you have said nothing to them?” “Not a word, sir, though I know them per- sovally.” ** Ah! you do, eh? Now, see here, I hope you are not trying to outdo me in finesse, Aré you sure there is no plot within this plot?” Mr. Tripp met his employer’s suspicious gaze firmly, and assured him that all was ‘‘ square and above-board,” 7 ‘** Very well, I'll take the case if it pans out as you say, and I'll meet you at the Gray Stone Church to-night. At eight, you said?” ‘Yes, sir; eight o’clock, and at the gate which leads to the graveyard connected with the church.” ae ‘‘Tll be there. By the way, Tripp,” here the lawyer glanced toward the other room, and at Luke, busily writing, ‘‘ we won’t mention this before the boy.” **Can’t he be trusted, sir?” “Oh! yes, in A rd affairs. Ebenezer Hare vouches for him; he’s an unscrupulous young knave, and Hare once saved him from jail. He’s all right, or I should not have him here, but this matter is too risky to take a boy into, however level-headed he may be.” ‘‘['m afraid he’s overheard something al- ready,” the clerk uneasily answered. ‘** Nonsense! He can’t get a distinct word at that distance. Besides, he’s all bound up in his work. Well, I'll meet you this evening, Tripp, and now to business.” The conversation ceased, but Luke’s pen moved on. It moved mechanically, however. His mind was on other matters. His hearing had proved more acute than Mr. Lorimer imagined, and he was an uninvited confidant in an iniqui- tous scheme. His last spark of confidence in Lorimer was one, and the same remark would apply to are. In securing him a position, Hare had de- ceived both parties. He had told the lawyer that Luke was a criminal, and said that Lorimer was a deeply religious man. Both statements had clearly been made up bodily, though the boy could hardly see the landlord’s object, unless it was to place him where his debt could be quickly discharged. He was destined to learn what the wily schem- er’s object was at no distant day, but, mingled with indignation at the libel on his character, his = subject of thought was Marmaduke Tripp’s plot. CHAPTER III. THE GRAY STONE CHURCH. LUKE remained at his post of duty all through the day, and nothing in his manner indicated that he had heard anything of the late conver- sation. Marmaduke Tripp looked at him criti- cally several times, as though to judge by his looks whether he was unscrupulous enough for their office or not. Had the boy not possessed unusual self-con- trol and firmness, he would not have been able to keep his secret. He knew the office of Phineas Lorimer was not the proper place for one who had any regard for honor, and his position troubled him. He began to understand what Lorimer meant when he said he wanted a “ level-headed boy.” It was only another way of saying that he wanted one devoid of conscience, Luke maintained his coolness all day and act- ed naturally, so that even Tripp’s suspicious eyes saw nothing out of the way; but before the hour of closing he had come to a decision, The two men contemplated something for that night which was of such a grave nature that even Lorimer had hesitated to ven 5 in it, and Luke felt that it would be criminal for him not to take some oe it. » We His first idea had been to go to the police, but he could reaaily see that his word would weigh lightly against that of the lawyer. ~ . rw o~ . & 2 ~ AD -% ? bean ~ & “% e > a, oe Poe « > See a %~* - tue .* = A, . ae - 7 _ te", é " " to.’ ~ > Sd dal —>- . . we « * _ . ~~ a. 7 a om. — » ‘ - ‘ \_ ai ee Sak ~~ ae (ile “se = a 4 ‘ i e* : i * Ss el - “ : os q ~ " &; “< - : 7 . be i janes, 2.“ Bon « Ls ° « r * : a > #t. ts (or ee f Ae :.* é, ~ “ Y- 5 EP 2 a ~ i. *- - ~ «> Taare . - er ~ . ae ee 8 “— = a