15 Western Short Stories — page 80: what you’re looking at

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

80 WESTERN SHORT STORIES iff your pa. If he knew, I don’t think he’d be holdin’ his own kin in jail.” The Pronto Kid came up off the cot like a lean, angry cat. He said sharp-. ly, “Keep your lip buttoned, Mitch! He’s not goin’ to know!” Mitch licked his lips and took a step back. “If you think I’m gonna stay locked up in this jug, you're crazy!" Mitch took another step back and there was a wild look in his eyes. The Kid could tell what was in his mind. “You're not goin’ to do it, Mitch,” the Kid said softly. There was sweat on Mitch's face and he sleeved some of it off. “Don’t be a sucker, Kid; I’m goin’ to get us out of here.” The Pronto Kid moved in fast, aim- ing at Mitch’s jaw. But the big «-l- hooter side- -stepped with a lot of speed for one so large. He hit the Kid in the mouth, knocked him back onto the cot. There was a pained expression on Mitch’s bearded face. He said with genuine regret, “I’m sorry, Kid. I didn’t want to do that, but these places make me go kinda crazy.” The Pronto Kid sat there in a daze and watched Mitch move to the front of the cell, heard him call ‘for the sheriff. Dave Pringle appeared pres- ently and there was a sick feeling down inside the Pronto Kid. Big Mitch said, “Pringle, it’s sure a hell of a thing when a lawman locks up his own son.” Pringle frowned slightly, glancing briefly at the Kid. He gave Mitch a hard stare. “What are you gettin’ at?” he demanded. “Those knife scars kinda messed the Kid’s face up,” Mitch told him. “But he’s your son, all right.” The lawman looked again at the Kid, sweat beginning to form on his brow. Then he swung on Mitch sav- agely. “That’s not Danny. What's your game, fellow?” Big Mitch turned to the Kid. “Come on, Kid. Tell him that story you told me—about that winter you was so hard up.” The Pronto Kid’s face was stony. “Go on, Mitch,” he muttered. “It’s your show.” The sherift's face was a little pale now. He said hoarsely, “What about that winter?” The Kid saw Mitch press close to the bars, heard him say, “This winter you was so hard up, you butchered one of your neighbors’ cows.” The Kid was watching his father and he thought Dave Pringle looked as if someone had slapped him hard im the face, “T can’t believe it,” the sheriff mut- tered, “but I never told anybody about that, so I reckon you are Danny.” The Pronto Kid arose suddenly, his twisted features giving no hint of the tumult inside him. He said impatient- ly, “All right, so I am! We were just passin’ through. I wasn’t figurin’ on stoppin’ here long.” Dave Pringle looked older than he had a few minutes ago. There was a deep hurt in his eyes. He said dully, “A fellow passin’ through here a cou- ple of years ago said he knew you, said you was a big rancher down on the border. That made your ma and me feel pretty good. But it looks like that fellow was lyin’ like hell.” Big Mitch looked a little uncom- fortable. “Well,” he said, “the Kid was in the cattle business—sort of.” | The Kid swore softly and gave the big man a glance that caused him to remain quiet. A drag to his steps, the sheriff went back to the office and got the keys. He returned in a moment and opened the cell door. He said bitterly, “T can’t let your ma know you turned out this way. Get out of town—and '”? don’t never come back! They went into the office and the lawman gave them back their guns. Suddenly, the Pronto Kid's eyes were narrow and mean. He rammed the barrel of his piece into Dave Prin- gle’'s middle. “You soft-headed old fool!” he said harshly. “You fell for our little play, hook, line and sinker! Now we're goin’ to lock you up and finish what we started out to do—gut the bank!” There was a baffled look on Dave Pringle’s face, as if he didn’t quite savvy what was going on. And Big Mitch was staring at the Kid, not too certain what was taking place him- self, eom#icbooks.co