Pulp Fiction, 1889 · page 5 of 32
Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 580 — page 5: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1889. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
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4 come a Shadowing a Shadow. 5 as she uttered the cutting words—“This ruf- fian!’ The detective looked up in great surprise, as stated, but he was not slow to act, He took in the situation at a —— saw that the person who made the appeal was unmistakably a lady, rose quickly to his feet, lifting his hat politely as he did so, and answered: ‘“ With pleasure, madam,”; The cabin was fast filling up, and as he rose Kinworth motioned the lady to take his seat. ‘‘Thank you,” she said, courteously, and availed herself of the offer. She had attracted but little attention, and only three or four of those near by had over- heard her words, The detective immediately faced the man of whom she had complained, “Sir,” he saia, “‘I know not who you are, but this lady has appealed to me for protection from you, and she shall have it. You had bet- ter not make a scene, I warn you.” The words were uttered in a low but positive tone, The man cast upon the detective ove look full of hatred, seeming to measure him as he did so, and passed on through the cabin and out. Kiaworth took up his gripsack and found an- other seat a little distance away, and presently the boat started. Nothing was seen of the man on the way across the river, and of course the detective did not look for him, nor did he seek to make the further acquaintance of the lady. When the boat was entering the slip on the New York side he took up his gripsack, crossed over to where the lady sat, and inquired: ‘“‘Shall I accompany you off the boat, madam?” vs shall be lad if you will do so, sir,” wasthe reply. he lady rose, as the other passengers were now doing, and together they passed out with the crowd, Kinworth looking around for the man when they reached the open air. *“Do you see anything of that man?” the lady quietly asked, ‘** Yes,” the detective answered, just then get- ting sight of him, ‘‘ he is over on the other side of the boat, and is looking this way.” ‘* Please to let me know if be follows us when we go off, and if he does [ wiil be greatly obliged to you if you will assist meto finda carriage as soon as possible when we reach the street.” ‘‘T will do so with pleasure.” When they left the boat the man did follow them, or at any rate he kept them in sight, and the detective lost no time in finding a carriage for his protegee. Running bis eye along the line of vehicles in waiting, he quickly made his selection, and led the lady forward to it. “Where to?’ the driver asked, as he opened the door, “To Union Square,” the lady directed; and, pee to Kinworth, after she bad entered, she a : ‘* Please to accept my thanks, sir, for the kind service you have rendered me ™ ‘‘The pleasure of having been of service to a lady is reward sufficient,” was the gallant re- sponse; aud, lifting his hat politely the cetec- tive closed the door of the carriage and motion- ed the driver to go. Tbe carriage turned and was off immediately, and as it wheeled around into Cortlandt street the detective caught a gy om of a pair of bright eyes looking out and back in his direc- tion, At that moment a hand fell upon his arm, Turning quickly, Kinworth found that his ac- coster was the man from whom the lady had sought protection, ‘© A word witb you, sir,” the fellow said. ‘* Well, what is it?” the detective coolly asked. * “ Why did you interfere in a matter which did not concern you?” was the angry demand, ‘You area fool to ask the question, in the first place,” was the answer he got; ‘ and in the next plaée it was a matter which did concern me the moment the appeal for protection was made, Do you want to know anything more?” The detective’s words were uttered with de- liberate calmness. ‘No, I do not want to know anything more,” was the retort, “‘ but I want to let you know how I resent such interference with my business, and to teach you a lesson for your freshness, Take that!” It required all of Kinworth’s wonderful quick- ness to enable him to escape a stinging blow in the face. “You cur” he instantly exclaimed; and, in the same instant, out flew his left hand and the fellow went over upon his back, his hat flying in one direction and his cane in another, ‘*Hello! Hold on, there! Stop that!” cried out a policeman, and he came running up, ** What is all this about?’ he demanded of the detective, , ‘*That fellow tried to strike me, and I have returned the compliment; that is about all, I uess,”” Kinworth answered, calmly. ‘* What did he try to strike you for?” * Ask him,” The fellow had by this time got upon his feet, | Cortlandt street, the lady turned away from the and was recovering his hat and cane. A crowd was already forming. **T struck him for interfering with what did | the world still,” she reflected. not concern him,” the man growled angrily. ‘* What did he do to you” Fs ** He knows,” ** Well, now,” the officer advised, you had bet- ter let the matter drop ee where it is and go off quietly. If you don’t I shall have to run you i , ‘The trouble is at an end, so far as I am con- cerned,” declared the detective, who had not even set down his gripsack, which was in his right hand. The other man would have shown better sense had he taken the same course, but smarting under the blow he had received his blood was boiling and he was hot-headed. ‘* Well, it is not at an end so far as [ am con- cerned, then,” he angrily exclaimed. ‘I set out to resent your interference in my business, and I’m going to make you smart for it. Officer, arrest that man, and I will go with you and make a charge against bim.” At this Kinworth began to lose patience, ‘‘'You area greater fool than [ took you to be,” he declared. ‘‘ Let me bave a word to say about this, officer.” By this time the crowd was becoming quite large and was pressing around closely, and the policeman, too, was losing patience,” ‘¢ Be quick about it,” he ordered. ‘‘ Well,” explained the detective, ‘‘ I had just entered the ferry-boat at Jersey City, when a lady came up to me and asked my protection against this fellow. I obliged her, and when I had seen her safely into a carriage on this side, and the carriage had started off, then this fellow came up, demanded to know what right I had to interfere with his business, and struck at me. I knocked him down. Now that is the whole case in a nutshell, and if he insists upon having me arrested, all right. Take us to the station, officer, and we will have it out there,” This action seemed to take the other man somewhat aback. He seemed more inclined to recede from the position he had taken, ; ae am williug to let up on you,” he began, “if— ‘‘T don’t ask you to,” the detective broke in. ** We'll go to the station and you can make your charge against me,” ‘* Really, I don’t want to be too hard with you, I guess I have given you a lesson that you won’t soon forget. Now that I come to think of it, have an important engagement on hand. } ou need not arrest him, officer; I will let it rop. The crowd laughed heartily at this. ** Tt looks to me as though the shoe would fit the other foot a good deal better,” remarked the policeman, **Say the word, sir,” to Kinworth, ‘and [ll arrest him on your complaint.” ** No, let him go,” the detective directed, ‘‘ He has punished me enough,” in a sarcastic tone, accompanied with a smile, The fellow slunk away, muttering something that sounded like a threat, but which, owing to the laughter of the crowd, could not be under- stood; and after passing a few remarks with the policeman Kinworth too departed, and the crowd dispe ‘ The detective went to a hotel, had supper, and soon retired for the night. He was weary, from bis long journey, and much in need of rest. But he did not easily fall asleep. Now that he bad reached New York, bis thoughts naturally re- verted to the case he had in hand, and they were, too, not by any means free from reflection upon his recent adventure. The face of the laay whom he had befriended kept coming up before him, and he could not dismiss it There bad been something about ber face that seemed familiar to him, and yet he could not tell what it was. He was sure that he had never seen her before, and he reasoned that it was cepey certain that he would never see her again, But the memory of her face would haunt him, and to drive it away he put his mind more fully upon the case in which he was en- gaged and sought to outline a plan of action. e had little enough material with which to begin his work, Mrs, Milburn’s correct descrip- tion of Wall street had satisfied him that she was right in imagining that ber past was some- how connected with New York. Accepting that as true, it followed that she had at some time or other been familiar with Wall street, and that something in her past was in some way con- nected with a bank on that street. Only one or two other slight clews were at his command. There was the name Whitford, which was one of the landmarks in Mr. Milburn’s mental Sabara; and then the ring with the inscription —“* H, A. to C. W.” That ring he was now wearing upon the little finger of his left hand, Finally, after he bad turned the case over in his mind several times, and had laid out a plan of action for the morrow, he fell asleep and slept soundly until morning. CHAPTER VI. A DYING REQUEST DENIED, WHEN the carriage containing the lady whom Prentiss Kinworth bad favored had turned into window and settled down upon the seat. ‘It is good to find that there are gentlemen in ** My attention was drawn to bim the moment I saw him after I entered the cars at Philadelphia, and when he assisted that old lady to alight at Newark with ber many parcels, which he did with as much careand kindness as though she were his mother, then I knew that I could safely appeal to him for protection from the fellow who was so an- noying me.” “Still,” her reflections ran on, ‘‘ I would not have done so, had not the ruffian forced his at- tentions upon me still more as I walked from the cars to the ferry-boat. After my request was made I was not troubled further. The fel- low seemed fairly to cower in his presence. I wonder what bis name is?” With that she dismissed the incidents from her mind as far as possible, and turned hei thoughts into a far more serious channel. As she did soacertain saddened expression of her face grew deeper still, and ere the carriage had gone far she was weeping. ‘* Poor, dear papa!” she said, half-aloud, when her outburst of grief had somewhat subsided, ‘*T hope I shall find him better.” She dried her eyes, after a little while, and became more calm, and at length the carriage arrived at Union Square and stopped. Opening the door a little, she gave the further direction of a number and street, and the car- riage rattled on, stopping presently before the home of Mr, Sigbert Parmilye, the banker. The driver got down from his box and hel her out, she paid bis charge, and then with lag- gard steps went up the stoop to the door. It was the housekeeper who opened it to her. ‘“‘Oh, Rachel, how is papa now?” the youn lady inquired anxiously, as soon as she h greeted the old housekeeper with a kiss. Rachel Swann was the woman’s name, and she had been Mr. Parmilye’s housekeeper for many years. In truth, he had never had any other. She was about sixty years old now, and had always seemed like a mother to her em- ployer’s daughter, whom she had had charge of from baby hood, ‘* He is no better, dear,” was the kindly but sorrowful answer. ‘I hate to tell you, but the doctor says that he cannot live.” The young lady burst into tears and sunk down upon a chair in the hall. It was some minutes before she ventured to speak, and the housekeeper did not disturb her. ‘“Can I go tohim? she presently asked. ‘“Yes, you can—you must—go to him,” was the answer. ‘‘He has been asking for you every little while. I thought I would let you become a little calm first.” | ‘“‘T will go to him immediately.” ; The young lady laid off ber hat and wrap, and the housekeeper led the way up to the room where Mr. Parmilye was. She knocked softly at the door, and Dr, Gon- salvo opened it to them. ’ “Tt is Miss Parmilye,” the housekee nounced; ‘“‘she has just arrived. enter?” ‘“‘Come right in, Miss Parmilye,” the doctor invited, speaking very kindly and tenderly, and he opened the door wider, The daughter entered, the old housekeeper following her. It was plain to be seen that Mr. Parmilye was growing worse. He was now in bed, and his r an- an she breath was very short and quick. The doctor closed the door and went to the bedside. ‘‘Mr. Parmilye,” he announced, “your daughter is here.” ‘The old gentleman opened his eyes, and made an effort as tbough to sit up. The doctor motioned to the housekeeper, and they together bolstered him up with the pillows, ‘* Essylt, my child, come here,” the old gentle- man then requested, speaking fain His daughter advanced to his silently. The doctor turned and spoke to the house- keeper, and they left the room, the doctor say- ing as he went out: ~ “*T will be within hearing, Miss Parmilye, if I am wanted,” They went out, closing the door after them, ve father and daughter were left alone to- gether, ‘*My child,” the old gentleman spoke, taking one of ber bands in his, ‘Iam about to leave you forever.” ‘*Oh! do not say that, papa,” the girl cried her tears streaming forth anew; ‘‘ you may get better,’ ‘* Never in this world, Essylt, dear, I have but a short time Jonger to live. In a little while I shall be no more, and it is very important that you listen to what I have to say while I have strength to talk. ** You will tell me that secret of the past, papa? You will tell me what I have so many times asked to know?” tly. in weeping ‘* No, not that, my child, not that; but I will © have something to say about it. What I want to say to you more immediately concerns you.” **T am listening, papa.” | = G S Omicboo oa (€ ss : *| s 2 i