15 Western Short Stories — page 72: what you’re looking at

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

"9 WESTERN SHORT STORIES was bound with. But they were un- yielding. He was trapped, with no hope of escape. “Better save your strength, year- lin’,’” Turk Brule said sneeringly. “You'll need it, in just a little while, just as soon as I come back. Ike, you stay here and watch this gent, and be damn sure nothin’ don't happen to him. Rayder, you come with me—I got things to talk over with yuh!” Turk Brule turned and swaggered from the room, followed by Judd Ray- der. The squat, dull-eyed Ike Torgin again seated himself in the chair at the foot of the bed. Grinningly, hunched like a giant toad, he watched Mace. Bitterly, Powder Mace contemplat- ed his predicament. At first, as real- ization of Nancy Rolfe’s treachery came to him, he'd felt sort of numb and bewildered. Now fierce resent- ment, against Nancy Rolfe and against himself for allowing himself to be so easily duped, roiled through him. Barring miracles, this was the end of his bitter fight with Turk Brule. And when a gent was bound hand and foot, surrounded by gold- greedy bounty hunters, miracles didn’t happen. Turk Brule, he knew, meant to kill him. He knew also that, before kill- ing him, Brule’s dark mind would de- vise numerous methods of torturing him. Powder Mace was the only man who had dared fight back at Brule, to dispute his ruthless march to the cat- tle empire he was carving by violence and murder here in the fertile Twin Peaks country. For that reason Turk Brule’s hate was a savage, consuming thing. _YALF AN hour passed—an hour... @ and still Ike Torgin hunched there, watching Powder Mace. Occa- sionally Torgin would nod his head and grin slyly, like he was thinking of something pleasant. Once, when Powder Mace squirmed about, trying to break his bonds, the squat man growled like a big dog and stirred in his chair. Occasionally, somewhere in the big old house, Powder heard footsteps. Once he heard Judd Rayder and Turk Brule quarreling. Still bickering over the price the Butcher Block owner should pay for the privilege of mar- rying Nancy Rolfe, Powder thoug‘it sardonically—and wondered at the harsh anger that boiled inside him at the thought. Suddenly Powder Mace was aware of voices in the adjoining room, A man’s voice—Turk Brule’s—and Nan- cy Rolfe’s. They were talking in low tones, and he could make out but few words. Once he heard his own name mentioned. Then they seemed to be arguing. Powder thought bitterly, “Over the bounty money!” Then, a moment later, he knew he was mistaken. He heard Turk Brule say, “I'll have you, girl, one way or another—you know that. Marry me, and I—I’ll do anything you say.” And Nancy’s voice, soft, provoca- tive, “Anything?” Powder couldn't hear the words that followed. But after a moment he heard Nancy's low, teasing laugh- LC Powder Mace lay there, heart-sick. Now he saw what a simple fool he'd been to fall for Nancy Rolfe, to think that she was the swellest, squarest, sweetest girl in the world. She'd just been playing him for a sucker. She'd betrayed him, and now she was jump- ing at the chance to marry Turk Brule, because he was a big man and had lots of money. Powder heard Judd _ Rayder’s hoarse, whining voice, now thick with whiskey: “Ike! Ike, you big ape, come in hyar!” Ike Torgin got up, shook himself like a big dog, and shuffled from the room. After that, deep silence held the old house for perhaps ten min- utes, Then Ike Torgin came back into the room. Torgin came and stood over Powder Mace, shaking his shaggy head puzzledly, fumbling in a pocket. From his pocket he brought a knife, and the light gleamed on a slender, razor-sharp blade. A chill washed over Powder Mace. But Ike Torgin stooped, started methodically cutting the ropes that bound Powder Mace. Arms and legs free, Powder sat up on the bed, meas- uring Torgin with his eyes, But Ike ~“e onic CLOOOKS .CGO)