15 Western Short Stories — page 67: what you’re looking at

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

RAW-RED LAW OF other man were standing in front of her, the Texan’s eyes as hard and ex- pressionless as two orbs of gray stone. “Casey.” The word was jolted out of Tilton as if Dan Casey’s presence here wasnt possible. “I put a guards «a Only then did Captain John Til- ton’s numbed brain grasp reality. His’ hand plummeted for gun butt, but he didn’t draw it. Casey’s first bullet smashed his right hand. The other man reached for his .41. Rose was out of her chair, clutching his arm in white-lipped determination. Casey came across the room in three long strides, gun barrel arcing down on the man’s head. Tilton reached for his dropped pistol with his left hand. Casey stamped on his wrist. Tilton cursed as pain ran up his arm. “You're taking us out of here,” Casey rasped, gripping the man’s shoulder and bringing him upright. “You'll never get out of bere alive,” Tilton snarled. “Then you won't either.” Casey pushed Tilton through the door. Bullets from half a dozen guns snapped along the hall. “Go ahead,” Tilton cried. down.” -" Casey jerked Tilton back into the room, questioning eyes on Rose. “It wont work. Tilton’s the kind who'll tell ’em to kill him before he’d tell ‘em to let us out.” “Did you tell Masters?” Rose asked. “Yes.” “Then hell bring his volunteers in.” Tilton laughed, a dry grating sound. “A slim hope, Rose.” Men were coming along the hall, a lot of them. Casey motioned Rose into a corner of the room. He stood direct- ly behind Tilton, gun in his back. “Cut ’em “Call your boys off, Cap,’ Casey said. “To hell with you,” Tilton said coolly. HEY FANNED out in front of - the door, a dozen of them, all armed. Gun muzzles lined on Tilton Ww ie stood slim and straight, smiling coolly at his men. i . vou have to kill me,” he said, tne job. Whatever happens, don’t THE REBEL LEGION 67 let the girl out of here alive until she telis why she’s here and who sent her, Jasper,” Tilton nodded at one of the men, “the boys will follow your or- dere.” “You're all fools,” Casey cried. “No use of Tilton crashing in. Let us out of here and Tilton won’t get hurt.” “This is more than a matter of a human life,’ Tilton said without turning his head. “If we take Colo- rado, New Mexico will be easy. Then California and Oregon will fall like ripe plums. Do your duty, Jasper.” The man called Jasper lifted his gun. “Don’t move, John,’ he said tonelessly. “T’ll blow his backbone apart,” Casey grated. “Blow and be damned,” Tilton said. It was the finest exhibition of cold nerve Casey had ever seen. He felt his admiration for the man, for the loyalty to the cause for which he fought. Jasper’s gun was up, hammer back. It was in that instant that the _music stopped. No glasses clinked. No gamblers called. Instead was Red Masters’ bellowing voice, “Where's alten?” “It’s Gilpin’s volunteers,” Jasper whispered. “John, there’s no sense to this. Casey and the girl can’t hurt us any more than they have.” For a moment Tilton hesitated, short quick breaths sawing into the quiet. “All right,’ he said then. “We will go down and talk to Masters.” A few minutes later Casey and Rose were out of the Alamo and on the street, her hand on his arm. Regret had no value, but there was a tomor- row, and Dan Casey had learned a great deal this night. “What did you mean by saying I never thought of anything but my own problems?” he asked at last. “We've never talked about anything but your claim and the house you were going to build for me and what a big man you’d be someday. That’s all fine, Dan, but today men are held in bondage. Their problems are more important than ours, but I never knew until you came into the Alamo that you had ever thought about them.” He hadn’t thought about them. It had been a distant thing, unimportant (cont'd on p& (Fh chooks CO