Fifteen Western Tales, March 1954 — page 72: what you’re looking at

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

y= ee Wasp-waisted and broad-shouldered, dark- ly handsome—a man who loved good liquor and high stakes in his gambling. There had been no love lost between Dane and Stuart. Dennehy appeared from behind a rock outcropping with a smile on his face. He had been at Hank’s bottle. “So ye see, Mooney,” he was saying, _ “Mister Clifton thought. it wiser that we a thing to do with it.” He grinned. ‘- Dennehy shrugged. leave the trail near Antelope Peak and come this way.” , Hank spat noisily. “You're headin’ for Fort Yuma this way? The Mohaves are on the loose, Dennehy. With but eight men he’s takin’ a hell of a risk.” : striper, as ye well know, Mooney. I do not give the orders—I take them.” Dane lit his pipe and walked over to the two. Dennehy flushed as he saw Dane. They had been friends as well as officer and enlisted man. He glanced at Clifton. The _officer had walked to the entrance of the wells, “Hello, Captain York,” Dennehy said. “By Heaven, ‘tis good to see you!”’ Dane grinned, Call me Dane, mel The rank is gone.” : Dennehy shook his “head. “You'll always be captain to me, sir. As for that. dirty business back at the barracks. Timothy Dennehy will never believe you had any- “Cor- poral Doian said differently one night down in Whiskey Row and I had to change the contours of his ugly face. Would you be- lieve it, sir? He’s uglier than ever now.” Dane puffed at his pipe. “Thanks, Tim,” he said quietly. ene odds are against you in believing in me.’ The Irishmar. waved a meaty hand. “I know men, sir. it has been my trade for eighteen years. I still believe in you.” Dane glanced at the saddle-weary troop- ers. “You’re pushing on this afternoon ?”’ - Dennehy spat. “Aye. ‘Tis hell on the horses. But here is a black dog riding the ~, FIFTEEN Sean TALES | “T am only a two-_ lieutenant’s back. He’s anxious to get to Fort Yuma.”’ “You sos es have done better going the other way.’ 3 “The Trail of Graves? ’Tis no picnic that way either.” Dane _ shrugged. traffic. ing with others that way.” “There’s much more [)ENNERY took out his pipe and Dane handed him his tobacco pouch. “Thank. you, sir.” He quickly filled his pipe as Clifton came back to Marion. “There’s something going on I do not like, Captain York. ’Tis best we stay here this night where we have a chance to rest and can defend ourselves if the Mohaves come. But, as I say, there is a black dog riding with the lieutenant, sir.” Dennehy handed Dane his pouch and went to inspect the horses. Hank rubbed his jaw. “Wonder what he means, Dane ?”’ “Clifton is taking a long, lone shot, even ‘for a gambler like him, going this way. I don’t like it.”’ “Corporal “Boots and saddles!” 3 Dennehy took his pipe from his mouth and walked over to the officer. “A word, Mister Clifton § de “Speak up.” “The men and the horses are worn thin, sir. Hank Mooney says there are Mohaves between here and the Colorado.” Clifton waved a gauntleted hand. “There are always Mohaves_ between here and the river.” “But there is war, sir. We did not know too much- about it at Whipple Barracks, Mooney says it’s very bad, sir.” “Mooney? From the company he keeps I wouldn't believe in his stories.” Dane bit his lip as he turned away. The troopers were standing to horse. Some of them glanced at. Dane. Dennehy hesitated. “If the lieutenant will — sir! We cannot fight a large ecniicels Boe! Sie) Dennehy ! i called Clifton, - You'd stand a better chance travel- |