Fifteen Western Tales, March 1954 — page 63: what you’re looking at

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

spat. “D’you know him?” Drings’ nostrils stiffened. “Never heard of him until last month.” “You don’t seem to like him much,” The foreman frowned blackly. “Why should I, when he’ll come wad- dlin’ out here full of wrong ideas about how to run a ranch? Why should I, when I’ve got the place paying all by myself ?? “By yourself? Or for yourself?” Sam - wanted a showdown now, before the rest of the riders returned from southward. He was convinced that that’s where they were, hovering near the spot where the Marietta train had been hit. Trask said, “Come | on, Med’ry, I’ll show you the bunk—” | “Wait a minute.” Drings stalked for- ward. “What did you just say ?”’ Sam grinned ‘coldly. 7 “IT said that maybe you had this place ”» payin’ for you, not by you. It looks aw- * filly prosperous for a spread that’s just wintered-up an’ hasn’t had time yet to brand or ship. It looks mighty clean, with only two pokes an’ a cook to police it.” Drings reached smoothly and swiftly for Sam’s neckerchief knot and held it. “T don’t answer questions here, I ask ’em.”’ He shook the neckerchief once. “Come to think of it, I'll save the new owner the trouble, and fire you right now.”’ He shook the neckerchief again and said through his side teeth to Trask, ‘““You got =: a % — - ; ae hoodwinked. This man’s no cowpoke, he’s probably a sheriff.” Sam broke free and took a long step backward. “Why should that worry you, Drings?”’ ~ He was still grinning, though snes was no humor in him. Drings’s anger broke and “ side- SS a fist into Trask’s mouth and lunged at _ Sam and hatcheted him across the jaws and slammed him against. the door and hit , him brutally in the lower stomach. Trask ‘LAW OF HELLFIRE RANGE = Samuel Quinby, 18th Mississippi.” And he 63 came at him from behind but Drings whirled and jabbed up a knee to break Trask’s coming and sent him spinning into a table. Sam shoved himself away from the door and drove a right hook into Drings’s ribs, crossed with a left and slashed him twice across the cheeks. Drings charged him and they locked grips and for twenty seconds grappled each other, flinging them- selves in a mad dance that had no rhythm, no pattern. Then Drings tore himself loose and clawed for his gun and that’s when Sam connected with a swift right hook to the jaw that laid the man flat on the seat of his pants with his eyes rolling white and his fingers twitching numbly. eat hereby give notice,’ Sam Quinby growled. “Trask, you comin’ ?”’ Trask disentangled himself . from the wreckage of the table. “Reckon I better. I figure we got-~five - minutes, maybe less, to seek the realm of free movement, as Jeb Stuart used to say.” They catapulted the semi-conscious Drings and hit their saddles, spurred across the area and out through the gates and away toward the northern hills. On the first upgrade they stopped to blow. their horses and listen for the signals of pursuit. Trask rubbed his mouth a and winced. “That’s one I owe him—Hear!”’ Hoofs were drumming the hardpack trail behind them, coming louder. “Trask, there’s three of ‘em anyway. What d’you propose?” “Ambush,” Trask blew out his breath and shook his head. “We’re at our rope’s end anyway, Med'ry, so there’s no use run- nin’ any more.’ But Sam didn’t think son. | “We’ re near it, not at it. I propose we let ‘em chase us aways. What’s the old sayin’? ‘He who runs to fight again—’ Somethin’ like that—Let’s run to fight again !”’ They spurred up to the higher | bench and galloped across a flat, piny stretch. and COMMICOOKSa6O