Western Story Magazine, May 12, 1934 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

Outlaws Of Calico Hole - 17 saw his eyes light at the prospect, but invariably the inexorable some- thing which dominated the man re- turned. “Tl need ten thousand to develop the place I have in mind,” he said, “and I’ve decided to string with Sanchez, if he'll let me.” As Dan Stuart finished speaking, he suddenly jumped to his feet. “José is coming on the dead run,” he cried. They met the native boy at the door, and from. his mixture of Mexi- can, Indian, and English, understood a large number of men were closing in on them. He had seen them in the half light of fading day in the lower country. José, followed by his mother, dis- appeared toward the barn, and in an amazingly brief time returned with fresh horses saddled. Alice aided her brother in mounting, and as he galloped away, pressed a rifle into Dan’s ready hand. “It’s loaded,” she called, “and more ammunition in the saddlebags, Let the horse have its head—it knows the way to Calico Hole.” At the turn in the road, Dan looked back. She was standing de- jectedly on the porch, lighted by the lamp held in the Indian wom- an’s hand. Dan cradled the rifle in the crook of his arm and let the horse have its head. They raised good horses on the Ford ranch, he thought. His own animal was sure-footed and filled with fire. In ten minutes’ time the west wall of the valley vaulted to the very stars. He looked back and saw sparks fly a quarter of a mile below, where a horse’s shoe had struck flint. It was just a flash, but as it was repeated several times, he knew the posse was riding direct to the portals of Calico Hole. | WS—2B “Theyre heading us off,”’ Al called backs = “Keep going, and I'll open up with the rifle,’ Dan answered. He dis- mounted, moved several yards from his horse, and hastily fired, then Jumped back to the animal again. A withering blast centered on the point. where his rifle had flashed, then he heard the thud of boots striking rocks. The posse was dis- mounting and taking to cover. Again mounting, Dan closed in behind Al, who had pulled up. Sev- eral minutes later they rode, un- challenged, through a canyon less than a hundred feet in width. The walls on either side reared at least a thousand feet, before falling back to even higher walls. “We camp here for to-night,” Al said, pulling up his horse. In the starlight, Dan could make out the dim outlines of a cleared area, two hundred feet long and a hundred feet wide. A trickle of fall- ing water came faintly, and he heard the hiss of a breeze running through dry grass. “We'll picket the nags,” Al said, “then turn in. There’s a shack against the wall, and it has several bunks.” “How about the posse?” “There isn’t a man among them that’d come in here for a thousand dollars,’ Al said. “They don’t know what they’re up against, and won’t take chances.” “What are we up against?” “Plenty of barbed-wire fence strung across the gap a hundred rods up the trail,’ Al explained. “Behind the barbed wire is a man or two with a Winchester rifle. It’s been a long day, and I’ve managed to pull through, thanks to you, Dan.” He dragged the saddle from his horse and staggered into the cabin, where he fell into a bunk EComicbooks.com