Fifteen Western Tales, January 1953 — page 53: what you’re looking at

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

f . &. SS ie ---~ > -~ Seen ad! 3 - AS - ww x an al v , { ' BY ? The broad shoulders, the tall rawboned frame. The vest and hat would be gray if it were light... .. T WAS getting along toward dawn in Dodge City, and young Barney Stevens was getting tired.” Tired handing out rotgut, wiping glasses, watching the bloody shoot-outs. Tired of the Texans, in from the Chisholm Trail, who fought ‘the Civil War over every night in the Brackson-Beg- bie Saloon. . Seth Brackson strolled up the bar and Barney gladly poured him a shot of his spe- cial reserve. He studied Barney from kind- ly eyes beneath thick grey brows. Through thick tobacco smoke and the smell of stale beer, the roaring sound circled round and round Barney. weren’t steady. “Still a hard town, ain’t it, Barney?” Brackson said softly. He was.a small, deli- cate old veteran in a swallow-tail coat, and a black string tie and striped vest. His head ached. His hands 53 CoMmicbooks.com