10 Short Novels Magazine — page 82: what you’re looking at

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

Pretty Dawn Lorde, bound once more, was piled in the center of the shack. She _ had a livid bruise on one cheek where Silky Ed Crowder had struck her. “You!” she choked. “They said you were blown up with the Boxed-Y ranch house!” “Big Plenty!” howled old Zeke Mc- Cann. “The runt himself!’ The elderly prospector was spread- eagled on the dirt floor. Ropes stretched taut from his wrists and ankles to four pegs driven into the ground held him. His swollen, enpurpled arms spoke amply of the torture he had undergone. They must have kept him thus for days. Zeke McCann was even more peewee in stature than Ruff. He had the physical build of a gnarled old ape. A wide, de- lighted grin twisted his homely, wrin- kled face. 2 Ruff rolled the girl out of line with the oor. A bullet came in and clouted slivers off the wall. Ruff sighted Silky Ed Crowd- er and the man who had found the buck- skin. The shout from the overpowered guard had drawn them back. He fired at them, missed, but drove them out of sight. Rapidly he untied Dawn Lorde, then old Zeke McCann. “They seized me right after Titanic Harrison was shot,” the girl gasped. “It was two of the Boxed-Y hands.” Ruff nodded, told her he had guessed that. He tried showing his hat at the door, but drew no shot. He found a rusty Karo can about the color of his own sun- baked face, put it in the hat and tried again. Clang! The can banged across the room. Instantly, Ruff fanned a shot back. He got a bark of surprise. “They won’t bite on that again,” he decided. He poked the chinking out of the logs in a couple of places to make loopholes. Then he saw old Zeke McCann still lay on the floor, spreadeagled as the ropes had held him. “I’m sure petrified!” the old prospector groaned. “Kinda give mea start an’ may- be I can get movin’.” Ruff pounded the stiffened, paralyzed muscles. Zeke McCann moaned through clenched teeth, became wet with perspira- tion. Ruff knew he was undergoing terri- ble agony. When the elderly man could wave his arms feebly, Ruff left the limbering-up job to the girl and, not without some ef- fort, pried a hole in the rear wall. He hoped they could creep out and escape the same way he had entered the canyon. a Sate But a bullet screamed into the hole he had opened. “We ain’t outa this a dang sight,” McCann groaned. “I can work myself into shape now, Miss.” Dawn Lorde got up. “Give me one of those guns and I’ll watch the back.” “You get over against the north wall an’ stay there!” he said gruffly. “That'll turn bullets better’n the others.” “But why—” He tried to scowl, became hot and un- comfortable. He pulled at his shirt col- lar, although it was open three buttons down. “Daggonit!” he Guundored at last. “Don’t argue with a feller!” OR forty minutes nothing of impor- tance happened. Then, up on the rim- rock near the gash by which he had de- scended, Ruff saw a bit of white cloth fluttering. The cloth appeared and shook again. It looked like somebody’s summer under- wear. Ruff hesitated, then waved his hat through the hole he had opened in the rear wall of the shack. A man appeared cautiously on the rim- rock and crept down through the gash. “One of Silky Ed’s gang,” Ruff mut- tered. “I don’t savvy this. But if he wants to palaver we'll take a chance. We ain’t got much to lose.” The actions of the descending man were strange. He took great pains to re- main concealed from the canyon mouth. Ruff gave old Zeke McCann’ a gun. “‘Watch the front close. They may be pull- in’ a shenanygin’!” The Boxed-Y hand came within speak- ing distance. “T’m gonna help you,” he called in a low voice. “I plumb balk at killin’ a wom- an. I got enough of this mess.” “Yeah?” said Ruff doubtfully. “Silky Ed brought a keg of that gun- powder from the Boxed-Y,” the man whispered. “He got it planted on the rim- rock so itll blow the whole side of the canyon down on this shack. He left me there to light the fuse. But I ain’t gon- na do it. You sneak out with me, then we'll blow the canyon wall onto the shack an’ he’ll think you’re all dead.” “Santa Claus!” Ruff gulped. “You mean that?” “T sure do. Only—you gotta promise to let me hit for Mexico.” ° “Sure—we'll let you go free as the wind!” Ruff beckoned Dawn Lorde and Zeke McCann, seized the unconscious man. They crept out, joined the Boxed-Y rid- er. The man looked nervous, worried. He comicbooks,