Pulp Fiction, 1881 · page 17 of 28
Beadle's Dime Library No. 146 — page 17: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1881. 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.
nh --enoug) to fling itaway!’ —_ bound and hc!pjess maa, much to the wonder of the desperado. “Where have I ever met you before?” the doctor asked, abruptly. ‘* We never met to my knowledge until the beginning of this affair.’ Oh, yes, we have; I am sure of it, bué it was a long—long time ago, perhaps when I was a child. How old a man are you?” The captive winced at the question; evidently if annoyed him. ‘‘ Why do you ask such a question as that?” ‘You are not as young a man as you appear to be.” ‘7 am not an old man by any manner of means.” ‘““You and I have met, and in the past e have deeply wronged me!” cried Diamond in a tone of conviction. Tho look of amazement which appeared upon the face of the outlaw at this declaration was too real to be assumed. **T cannot say when or where,” continued the doctor, ‘‘nor the nature of the offense, yet a presentiment tells me that it is the truth,” ‘‘Tt is utter nonsense!” growle! the other. “T never saw you in my life until you were brought into our secret haunt the otber night and [ have a good memory for faces, too, and seldom forget one that I have ever seen.” ** And you never have seen me?” ‘* Never!” And the doctor felt satisfied the man believed that he was speaking the truth. ‘But you haven't answered my question yet —what are you going to do with me?” the des- perado again demanded, ‘* What should I do with you?” and there was thatin the calm voice which made the blood of the/listener run cold with horror. ‘Well, thatis for you to decide, of course, but f own up vanquished; the game is yours, and if we were playing for any stake you would have the right to rake in the spoils.” ‘The stake you sought was my life—was it not?” Cold and pitiless was the tone, and the help- less man realized that he could expect no mercy from the man whose life he had sought with such savage cruelty. **T suppose it was,” he answered, sullenly. .- And against that stake did you place your own life?’ For a moment the two men glared at each other, the eyes of the doctor, cold and calm, but as fixed as the eyes of the snake when it in- snares the bird, while angry, impotent rage rr Re gleamed in the orbs of the other, and he ground | his teeth together. ‘*¥ou donof answer;—is not the question a fair one?” The vanquished chief dropped his eyes slowly until they rested upon the strong cords which fettered his wrists; then he spoke: **T suppose [ did,” he replied, _‘*‘ When a man enters a house in the dead of night witha weapon in his hand, he certainly does it at the risk of his life.” ‘“And I would be justified mow in taking yours!” Diamond cried, quickly, and with sach ferocious fervor that even the irou-meryed des- perado was startled. ‘*No, you would not; Lam a helpless prisoner in your hands, and to take my life would be the act of a coward,” “Bah! After all, there would be more satis- faction in giving you up to the public hang- man,” Diamond suggested, consolingly. CHAPTER XXIIl. A MARVELOUS ACT... Tux doctor spoke as if he was debating the matter in his mind—whether it was better to kill the prisoner on the spot or to deliver him up to the authorities. A thrill of rage went through the frame of the prisoner, but with a great effort he choked back the passion which was swelling in every vein, ‘‘ Are you going to give me up?” * What else Can 1 do with you? I know that by rights I ought to settle the matter with my own hand, just as if we were out on the far Western prairies beyond the reach of the law It would 3 the easiest thing in the world to put you to death; a single well-directed blow fa pive you your passport to the other world.” ‘*But you forget the law which would hold you accountable!” cried the threatened man, the cold perspiration beginning to start out upon his forehead, _ “Did you not with your own lips say that, when a man enters a house in the dead of night with arms in his hands, he does so at the risk of his life?” “Yes, and @‘ you had struck me then the law would have held you justified, but the situation is changed now; I am a helpless prisoner in your hands, and itis your duty to te me up 19 the police, not to kill me in cold blood.” ‘‘ And so, merciless wolf that you are, you fear toWie!” cried Diamond, in a tone of con- ten: pt. “Life is worth something, and I am not fool ’ ee ln | The Doctor Detective. se — ee **Tf I choose to kill you, could I not say that it was done when you first came into the room?! Who would dispute my statement? Your com- panions will not dare to, for by so do they risk their own liberty, and, judging by the haste with which they ran away, they are not of the stuff of which heroes are made.” “Why kill me or give me up? I will make it worth your while to let me go free; I will pay you any sum of money you choose to name, in reason, of course—any sum that I can raise—if you «ill allow me to go.” ‘* And then take the first opportunity after- ward, that camein your way, to murder me in cold blood in reward for my clemency,” the doctor responded, sarcastically. **No, upon my soul! no! I will give my word that, as far as I and the White Band are concerned, the thing shall end right here. Give us your promise not to hunt us down, and we will swear never to molest you in any way whatsoever.” ‘“* It is impossible.” ** Why impossible?” ** Because it conflicts with an oath that I have sworn and which I will not break.” ** And what is that oath?” “To hunt down and Oeing to justice every man of your accursed band; to unravel the mystery of the golden coffin, for I know that there is some dark mystery connected with that gorgeous receptacle for the dead.” Ananxious look came over the face of the other as he listened. “Why do you want to mix yourself up in our affairs at all?’ he demanded. *‘ Why can’t you let us alone, if we are willing to cry quits? e will make if worth your while and we will not harbor any malice, either. As Heaven is my witness, if we had had any idea that you were the kind of man you are, we would never have troubled you in the first place.” ‘* What mercy did you show me?’ Diamond retorted, sternly. ‘‘I had never injured you or any member of your brotherhood in any way, but you condemned me to a most horrible death, and from which I escaped only by a miracle, which makes it plain that Heaven or- dained I should escape in order that your se- eret band might be destroyed and the mystery of the golden coffin revealed.” ‘*Can I not offer you sufficient inducements to turn you from this purpose?” the captive asked, despairingly, . ‘** What would you have accepted from mé when you lowered me into the well-hole?” Diamond cried. ‘“*And yet, there is no comparison be- tween the two cases, for my death seemed sure, while I am only turning you over to the au- thorities, and between the Tombs_ prison and the scaffold the distance is great, particularly in the casé of such a man as you are, well pro- vided. with money to buy skillful. lawyers to block the wheels of justice... By delivering you into the hands of the police [do not assure your | death; Iam well aware of that, even if I suc ceed in proving that you attempted nry life; but {do strip the mask from your face and hold you up to the world ia your_truie. character and, in the mean time, your White Band will be deprived of your services as a leader and I fancy 1 will not have a very difficult task to hunt them down, as I have an idéa that you are the brains of the gang; lacking your assistance, the rest will fall an easy prey.” “If you do, not fall your@lf by some. des- perate hand in the mean time!” the baffled man exclaimed, in a voice full of menace. ‘* Be that my risk,” Diamond replied. ‘* There is an Old adage which says, threatened men live long, and after the seare I have given your bravos to-night I fancy not many in the band will be anxious to undertake the job of attempt- ing to silence me. NowI will go for a hack and carry you at once to the police head- quarters.’ “Ten thousand dollars if you will let me go!” cried the desperate man, as the doctor opened the door, ‘Ven millions would not buy you from me i) replied Diamond, implacable as death it- self. The door closed behind him and the prisoner was left alone to his reflections. But, not long did he muse over the situation; he knew that he had not many minutes before him and that he must make good use of what few there were. At once, then, he wriggled from the bed to the floor, taking care to de- scend feet first. The cord around his ankles did not prevent him from standing up, and, al- though walkiug was impossible, yet it was easy enough for him to hop over to where the gas still was burning. Deliberately, regardless of the pain, he thrust his wrsts near enough to the flame to burn the stout fish-line which was wound so tightly around them. : Cord and flesh alike suffered, for if was im- ossible to burn the one without the other, but be man never wine: d, although the pain was intense for a few moments. At last the line parted under the strain ap- plied by the wrists. ‘*There, curse you! You are off at last!” he cried, as he daslied the bonds away, then he 17 whi out a knife from his ket and cut ee aaliee the ings which confined his At last he was once more in full possession of his limbs! Then, with no loss of time, he stripped off the white disguise, which the doc- tor had not taken the trouble to remove. Un- derneath he had on a plain suit of dark clothes, and from asecret pocket of the coat he pro- duced a soft, dark slouch hat, and a false beard, black in color, like his hair. These two artic! s adjusted in their place, the change they made was wonderful. It is doubtful if even t's sharp-eyed doctor would have recognized his foe, the dreaded captain of the White Band, s» yas cr aneggd was he transmogrified by the simpie isguise. e made his way hurriedly to the street. No one opposed his passage, and, in the street, he turned downward toward the river, knowing that Diamond would take the other direction. Not a singlé soul did he encounter until he turned the corner of the next street; then he passed a policeman, who. merely glanced at him as he walked by, for there was nothing suspicious in his appearance, The doetor with the hack was back in ten minutes, but to his surprise, found that the bird had flown! ‘It is life for life, now,” he murmured. “Either the White Band kills me, or I must hunt them down, and in this desperate game I cannot afford to lose a single trick. I will see the superintendent as soon as possible, Perhaps he can identify the man.” CHAPTER XXIV. THE ROGUES’ GALLERY, DIAMOND sat down and fell to meditating upon the situation. Matters had Fp Ae idly within the last few hours, and an entirely new face had been put upon the affair, ‘The doctor’s game had beer to keep his mar- velous escape a secret from all the world, aad es pecially from the members of the White Band, and this was the reason why he had appeared in a disguise. Alcenor Diamond was to be seen no more, and in his disguise as Clarke he thought he would be able to hunt the rascals down with- out their having any suspicion that a foe was on their track. But, that part of the scheme would have to beabandonednow. The brother- hood knew that he was alive, and, what was worse, the captain of the band understood that neither he nor his followers could hope for mercy at the hands of the man whom they had docmed to such a barbarous death. . All the ad- vantages of working in secret and in the dark, which he had ceunted upon, were gone; the band knew that be wasalive and on their track, and the odds were greal, that they would be able to deal him a blow before he would geta chance at them, and the only way to foil —, would be for him, since he had embarked in the detective business, to, Proteus-like, assume an- other disguise, so that, while they would be on the look-out for him,as Clarke, under an en- tirely different appearance, he mightsucceed in ending their vigilance. The leak in the office of the superintendent of police puzzled him, though; fromthe words of the desperado leader it was plain that, from some one in the police department, the men of the White Band had learned that a foe was en ~ their track. In sich a desperate life and death ° struggle as this, it was not easy to carry on act- ive operations, embarrassed by a doubt of one’s allies. But, the doctor had devoted his whole heart and soul to the task, and was resolved while life remained to pursue the war to the bitter end. And so, ina very short time, he came toa con- clusion in regard to the best course for him to take. As speedily as possible Clarke must vanish, and a new disguise be assumed. And he saw, too, that it was not advisable to use the house for a headquarters any longer, No matter what disguise he wore, nor how careful or com- plete it was, he surely would be suspected if seen coming from the house by any meniber of the secret d, and the doctor did not douLt that the rascals would cause the house to be closely watched. There was. opportunity though for him to act before the pycnege would commence, for it would certainly e some time for the routed and demoralized rogues to recover from the severe shock which they had experienced. e wrote a brief note to the housekeeper ex- Senger, that he had been called away by busi- ness and that he would not probably return tor a week or so, and then, just as the first gray light of the morning was lining the eastern skies, he quitted the place, Of course at such an hour very little could be done, but he did not dare to remain in the vi- cinity until an hour when business could be transacted, for then he felt sure his movements would be watched, and his idea was to have “Clarke” disappear as mysteriously as Dia- mond had done. So he whiled the hours away as best he could until about eight o’clock, them sought one of tie fashionable wig-making establishments on Broadway and encountering the prvprietor in Eboo (E(0)| 11] CS (Elo)