Western Story Magazine, May 12, 1934 — page 125: what you’re looking at

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

The Barking Dog ~ not been outside or within the first — of the draw. He listened for a whisper, the sound of breathing, anything. At last he was convinced that no one was immediately beyond him. Nevertheless he remained cautious. Kneeling and removing his hat, he poked out his head. His eyes fell upon a wall. He was at an angle in the draw. It ran for no more than four feet and then turned in the direction in which it had first run. He crept along these four feet and again poked out his head. The draw ran straight to his left. At the end of it was a spreading space and beyond the spreading space a slop- ing mountain wall. Neither horse nor man was in sight. That, how- ever, did not lead Jerry to believe that no one was in that spreading space, If those men had ridden in here, they would remove their horses and themselves to one side, so that any one entering the draw could not see them. Jerry decided to go along the rest of the draw. He knew that his danger would be increased, but he could not turn back now. He had to learn what was beyond him. He thought a long time passed before he came to the end of the draw. Five feet this side of that end he again stopped to listen. At first there was no sound. Then a horse shook itself. Jerry believed that this was a regular retreat for this part of Virlee’s outfit, for when the horse shook itself, there was no rattle of gear. Bridle and saddle had been removed from that horse and probably from the others. Jerry knew that common sense urged that he withdraw. A horse was within that space. That meant that a rider was probably there. One rider would not be there alone. Unless 123 Jerry’s heart almost stopped beat- ing. Perhaps that red-headed fellow was in there alone! That was only an added incentive for having a look. Jerry went prone and rolling his arms under him noiselessly went up to the end of the draw. Slowly he pushed out his head, quickly withdrew it. That one, quick glance had been sufficient. He saw that the draw and the space beyond it made a “frying pan” with a crooked handle. The space was round with no entrance save this. In a way that was favorable to these men. They had only one entrance to watch, but, also, they had only one exit. With the one entrance blocked, they would be securely corralled. Jerry had arrived at a time set for his success. A score of men were within that inclosure. They were eating a cold meal, without coffee. They were so cautious that they had not built a fire. They must have been ravenously eating, their eyes on their food. So far as Jerry had been able to see, the red-haired man, that lone rider, was not among them. Appar- ently he never hunted with the pack. Proud probably, Jerry scorned, of being a lone wolf. Jerry slowly retraced his steps. As he went along the draw toward the angle, he looked up. He saw that mountains broke down to a shelf. If he and the other men could gain that shelf, they could hold up the men in the pan. Gaining the outside, Jerry drew on his boots and looked up. The mounted men up there had been so concerned about him that they had sent their horses to the very begin- ning of the descent. If anything had happened. to him within their sight or if he had not, SOOM es