15 Western Short Stories — page 79: what you’re looking at

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

THE PRONTO KID COMES HOME 99 Big Mitch said, “We better kinda snap it up, Kid. That hard-ridin’ mar- shal might not be as far behind us as we figured.” , The Kid found it hard to take hi eyes off the girl. Those blue eyes of hers did something to a man. He said, “You worry too much, Mitch.” They were on their second cup of coffee and waiting for the dessert when the door opened softly and the Kid heard a voice say flatly, “Just sit tight, gents, and mebbe you won't get hurt.” : The Pronto Kid stiffened and shot a glance at Big Mitch. He shook his head when he saw that the big fellow was about to make a play. Boots pounded the floor and a slen- der, gray-eyed young man wearing a deputy’s badge came forward and lift- ed their guns. He said to the girl, “Don’t be frightened, Rosie.” Rosie stood in the kitchen door- way, her hand at her throat, her face pale. “Who are they, Kale?” she asked in a small voice. The deputy shook his head. “I don’t know, but I reckon it ain’t too hard to figure out what they’re doin’ here.” Big Mitch said meekly, “You got us all wrong, Mister. We’re just a couple of tumbleweeds driftin’ through.” The deputy’s laugh was without mirth. “Don’t give me that, big fel- low. I’ve seen too many of your kind around here lately. You’re two more gun-slicks, come to work for Anse Belder. But I’m takin’ you down to see the sheriff.” The Pronto Kid shrugged and spread his hands. “Looks like, Mitch,” he said, “we’re goin’ to get free lodg- in’ in the Maraposa jailhouse.” Big Mitch made a sour face and grumbled, “If this ain’t a hell of a note.” : The Kid put some money on the counter and looked at the girl, “You sure know how to cook, Miss. Sorry we haven’t got time for the dessert.” They went out onto the street and the deputy marched them down to the little red-brick jail on the edge of town. They went into the office and the Kid stared at the little man behind the rolltop desk. He stared hard, his breath caught in his throat and a queer feeling in the pit of his stomach. That man was his father, Dave Pringle. The Pronto Kid could see the bit- ter lines about Dave Pringie’s mouth and the shadows beneath his faded eyes. The Kid thought, He looks old and tired and his hair’s turned white. He’s carryin’ a heavy load. The sheriff ran his eyes over the prisoners, listening to his deputy speak his piece. The Kid looked down at the floor, afraid that his father might recognize him. His _ heart stopped beating for a moment, then he remembered the scars and he knew there was little danger. Dave Pringle sighed, leoking at his deputy. “We ain't really got any right to hold these two, Kale.” The deputy said harshly, “To hell | with what’s legal. You’re gettin’ in Belder’s hair and he’s gone too far to ever turn back now. He’s down at the Blue Mouse, gettin’ himself primed. I’ve got a hunch there’s goin’ to be trouble tonight, and if we've got these two yahoos locked up, it will mean just two less to worry about.” The sheriff nodded slowly. “I reck- on you're right, Kale.” The Pronto Kid turned and found Big Mitch staring intently at a piece of cardboard tacked to the wall. The Kid saw that it was an old election poster, carrying a picture of his fa- ther. Beneath the picture, in large black letters, were the words: DAVE PRINGLE FOR SHERIFF. Big Mitch looked at the Kid, grin- ning faintly, and the Kid knew his saddlemate was wise. When they had been locked in a cell, Mitch set into pacing the floor and the Kid flopped down on the hard cell cot, put his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. Finally, Big Mitch stopped and looked at the Kid. “Damn it,” he said. “We got to get out of here, That mar- shal is apt to hit town any time now.” The Kid said, without looking at his saddlemate, “How you goin’ to manage it, Mitch?” | The big man came up close to the cot. “You told me your name was Pringle, and that your pa was a law- dog. So I reckon that makes the sher- cComicbooks ©