Western Story Magazine, May 12, 1934 — page 118: what you’re looking at

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

116 E struck the trailer’s horse, H and as it leaped forward, he swung in behind it. Most of the men followed him. Then be- hind Jerry there were three shots. A trio of punchers had refused flight till they had shown their de- fiance. Again glancing back, Jerry saw them start their horses. All these riders, except the trailer, ducked low in their saddles. Bullets passed over their heads. One went so close to the trailer that he ducked. The chase was brief. These riders all rode hard horses, under the saddle every day. Those men back there rode town horses, whieh not infrequently were in stables long hour after long hour. They de- veloped soft kidneys. They had no stamina. Jerry saw the gap widen. Then the pursuers were dim figures, and at last they were gone alto- gether. For a while, Jerry kept to the fast pace. When the party was well out in the flat, he slowed down, then stopped. “Well,” he said, “‘we’re much obliged to you boys. What’re you goin’ to do? You can’t go back to Nugget City.” “Some of us turn off here,” a puncher said. “We live in the back country. We'll go on with you if you can use us.” “Not necessary. We'll be all right. S’long!”. “So long!” All but three of the men turned off the road and departed in a direction opposite that which led to the Bar K. “What you three goin’ to do?” Jerry asked, “We rode in here lookin’ for jobs,” a man said. “T could use you,” said Jerry, “but you can see we got a war on. We might even have a fight before we got home.” - knew what he had done, books Street & Smith’s Western Story Magazine “We ain't give much of an account of ourselves so far,” the man drawled, “but we might. “Twas me shot that hombre in the saloon. I want that known if any- thing should come of it. I s’pose they’s a sheriff in that town.” “Never mind about him,” Jerry said. “He works for Virlee.” “Well, we can go on with you or leave. Suit yourself.” “Come along.” At daylight they reached Lone Butte. Jerry called a halt and turned to the trailer. “You can loosen up your tongue now, Jerry said. “It was right here that King was killed—murdered.” “That,” said the trailer, “was be- fore I come.” Jerry pressed in on the man. “Lissen,’ Jerry said, “we hadda take you away from a screamin’ woman. That wasn’t no nice, easy job. I ain’t feelin’ none too good yet. You better not get sassy. I got an idea that you know about everything that’s taken place around here, before you come an’ after.” “TI don’t know nothin’. I was brought in here by a banker.” “The banker sent to Idaho for a trailer, an’ Virlee’s brother-in-law showed up?” Jerry snapped. “The man that killed my father, the postmaster, is dead,” Tyson put in. “He talked.” “Huh, that fella. Called hisself a trailer. Didn’t know nothin’. Too. sick to trail for a mile.” “You could trail for a mile,” said Jerry. “Then you could lose the trail.” STARTLED look came into A the man’s eyes. Jerry thought he believed himself too cute ‘to have been caught. He was taken aback when he found that Jerry (€(0)