Fifteen Western Tales, March 1954 — page 34: what you’re looking at

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

7 He knew now that it was a mistake for him to have come here. The only thing to do was leave quickly. “T found the glove on the road and was just riding through,” he said. “I’ve got to go now.” Mary Raines came from behind the desk then. “You don’t want to tell me who you are,’ she said. “But I thank you for the glove— and for what you did a moment ago.”’ Evers said, “‘I probably made more trou- ble for you.”’ Mary Raines shook her head. “You couldn’t do that,’ she said, “but you've made trouble for yourself. will try to kill you for that beating you ard gave him. I hope you'll leave town imme- diately.” “T’'ll leave,” Evers said, cause of Crandell.” He left the office quickly then and went down the stairs and out into the sunlit street. Despite what Mary Raines had said, he knew that he had made more trouble for her, and this thought rankled inside him as he walked down the board sidewalk to- ward the livery stable. Someone called, “Hey, stranger!” and Evers pivoted sharply to see a short, heavy- set man angling across the street toward him. A sheriff’s star was pinned to the man’s buckskin vest. Now his little vein of luck had pinched out, Evers thought, and it was too late to do anything about it. He let his hand fall casually to the gun at his side, and’waited for the sheriff. to come to him. “You the feller just pistol whipped Ard Crandell?” the lawman asked. Evers said, “I wouldn’t call -it pistol whipping.” “He called it that,” the sheriff said, “and you can bet he wouldn’t have been telling me about it except to get ready an alibi for killing. You’d best do your business here and make tracks. I don’t want no more trouble than I’ve got already.” The man 9? “but not be- Ard Crandell FIFTEEN WESTERN TALES ee) stopped and studied Evers, then said, ‘Say, ain’t I seen you some place before?” | Clay Evers said carefully, “I wouldn’t know, sheriff. I’ll be going now like you said,” He walked quickly to the livery stable and found the hostler, an old man with tobacco-stained whiskers, brushing his horse. The oldster looked up. “Nice hoss,” he said. “Yours?” Evers nodded. “Is he ready?” “Ready as I could git him,”’ the hostler said. .He peered closely at Evers. “Rid him pretty hard, ain’t you?” Evers thought, There'll be a posse on my tail in an hour. But suddenly he did not care. Here was a man who would talk, and Evers had some-questions he wanted the answers to. | He said, “Can you tell me about the trou- ble between Mary Raines and Ard Cran- dell ?”’ The old man’s eyes narrowed. He took a plug of tobacco from his shirt pocket and bit off a chunk. “That'll take some telling, mister,’’ said. “I’ve got time to listen,” Evers told him. he Be Baits HOSTLER dropped the = curry comb and sat down on a box. “Ten years,” he said, ‘‘things was tough in these parts—drought and low prices on cattle. Jed Raines—he was Mary’s pa—just man- aged to keep one step ahead of goin’ bank- rupt selling ranch equipment like bob wire and windmills and tanks, mostly on credit. “Then two years ago beef prices went sky high, and about that time artesian wa- ter was tapped here. Things went as good as they had been bad. Ever’body had money, and it looked like Jed Raines would clean up with his wire and pipe, and ponies stuff.”’ “Clay Evers said softly, “And then Ard Crandell showed up.’ The old man looked annoyed at the interruption. | EOmMIcbooks.co . «tats a. ee — . ” necting fle