15 Western Short Stories — page 36: what you’re looking at

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

36 WESTERN SHORT STORIES on a bug,” The Kid flared. But he glanced then at the canteen, and back to Jess Hardy. He began tonelessly: “T had come across The Flats that day. ’Pache Tanks was dry and my horse and me had had no water. I was leadin’ him when we met...Jeb Hardy. Both of us nigh all in and still ten mile from water. The old...yer dad had two barrels in that wagon— remember ?—haulin’ it to his timber camp. Never ast fer none fer myself— he had knocked an eye outen that same horse a couple weeks before and I hated him. But the horse—he was in bad shape and I knowed he’d never make it them ten miles. So I ast, and the old...he said go to hell. He wasn’t haulin’ water fer the mounts of no saddle bums. Started his team up...” The Kid’s voice died rustily. Jeff said with a soft insistence: “You robbed him too though, Kid. Killed him and robbed him. What money he had, and the shotgun and box of shells he had in the wagon— you killed two more with those, next day when we cornered you. You took his team. What about that?” The Kid’s voice fired, defensively for the first time. “Sure, I robbed him! I knowed well enough, from that minnit on ever- body’d be agin me. My horse was al in; I took his team to ride, git away on. Same with his money—lI had to have that, on the run; and the shot- gun be teached fer when I tolt him my horse was gonna drink regardless.” His voice lowered, found a taunting note. “I stoled your horses, too, that next morning. Yourn and the rest of that posse’s, and left the bunch of you afoot tryin’ to chase me. Remember ?” Jess Hardy remembered, grimly. But there was no heat, no anger in Jess now. He might have been a robbed Judge, weighing pros and cons, dispassionately, unemotionally. Tle offered the canteen again; this time the thatched head jerked in curt, hateful refusal. He moved a couple of yards from the Kid, to sit with his back pushed into a sturdy sage, pulled his gunbelt round till the big weapon in its holster pointed between his kaees at the scrawny body that lay facing him. Sitting there, stirring now and then to shake the drowsiness out of his tired body, gradually the suspi- cion le had felt om his return from the spring renewed itself. At first it was intangible, vague: the Kid's slim body was tense and not lying rest- fully; washblue. eyes were too aiert, too watchful of himself; Jess remem- bered the sheriff's ‘“—-dangerous if he was in a Straitjacket.” There was iipy mOvement, two Stealiy ter 4 mere shift in search of comfort: the Kid’s eyes alternately cleamed keen in the moonlight, then hid behind colorless veiling lashes. Any other man of the posse—Jess Hardy a few minutes ago—would have investigated at once. |e THOUGH Jess Hardy's outer mind was soon tense as a ready bowstring, an inner corner still dwelt on things abstract. A man’s dread of being hanged—’—yaller dogs a- watchin’—’’—two barrels of water, a thirsty horse. He saw the change in position of the Kid’s upper arm where it crossed fits thig bedy t6 the rear, and gave no sign; he watched calmly the Kid's muscles bunching as if for some mighty effort, and still Jess Hardy did not move. Had the sher+ iff—or any posseman—awakened, he would have been amazed and furious at Jess’ carelessness. Then suddenly the Kid's skinny tor- so arched between shoulder and hip and his right hand slid swiftly into Jess’ view—though the arm numbed from long pressure between earth and bodyweight moved with less than the Kid’s normal snake-strike speed. Jess’ right hand had moved minutes ago to the gunhandle in his lap, thumb on hammer: even so, only that slight slowing of cramped muscles tipped the balance against the Sheep- faced Kid. Shock of the .45 bullet rolled the scrawny body, the shift lifting a little the muzzle of the der- inger as smallboned fingers squeezed both its triggers. Twin bullets tore rough holes in Jess Hardy’s hat crown, tipped it back on his head. The sheriff came awake sitting up gun in hand, others of the posse only a groping instant behind. Jess got to his feet and stood over the Sheep- (cont'd on pg. 38) cComicbooks ©