Western Story Magazine, May 12, 1934 — page 65: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

kl RAIL PARDNERS By SETH RANGER Author of “Gold Guard,” etc. | HE fringe of red whis- kers around “Hard-rock” Shipley’s jaw suddenly bristled; his eyes glared, and abruptly he set down his cup of coffee and shook a gnarled fist at his partner, “Poke” Tupper. “Stop siphonin’ your coffee,” he roared. “Every time you take a mouthful, it sounds like a sump pump in a mine. 5I-l-l-u-u-u-up! S]-I-l-u-u-u-up! All winter [ve heard it. I hear it in my sleep.” “Yeah,” Poke flared, thrustmmg a small head supported on a long tur- key neck halfway across the table. “And I’m sick of hearin’ you com- floor. plain mornin’, noon, and night. If it wasn’t you was such a helpless little runt and needed a big strong man like me, I'd have pulled my freight long ago.” “Me helpless?” screamed Hard- rock. “Me? Why, you long drink of water! I’m comin’ around the table and take you apart.” He jumped up. “No, on second thought it’d take me too long to reach you. I’m comin’ direct!” He hurled the table aside, and dishes, moose steak, sour-dough bread, along with knives, forks, and spoons, clattered to the ; Hard-rock’s fist started for Poke’s jaw, But as the lames Meer