Western Story Magazine, May 12, 1934 — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

22 Street & Smith’s guise, and he was insisting that Dan die at once. “That settles it, Tremper,’ San- chez said; “you die. All right, boys.” The band surrounded Dan in a threatening ring. One of the men caught his arm. “We take our prisoners to the grave on the hoof,’ he jeered; “we ain’t got dead wagons, white horses, and such.” Alice Ford, hearing the change in tone, came from the cabin. “What is wrong?” she cried. “Don’t they believe you, Mr. Stu- art?” Before Dan could reply, she turned to Sanchez. “You must be- lieve him. He isn’t a Ranger, he’s an—a wanted man.” She had al- most used the word “outlaw.” — “Don’t worry,’ Dan interrupted; “the boys got a little excited. We're just talking things over. Tell Al it’s a little matter of proving I’m Dan Stuart—er—ah—gentleman adven- turer, and not Jud Tremper.” HE girl eyed him briefly. No man, going to his death, could be so casual, and she returned to the cabin, convinced. Sanchez’s eyes almost ceased their incessant roving and centered on Dan’s face as he spoke. }f Dan was afraid, he did not betray it. “Take him down to the ceme- tery, Sanchez ordered. They plodded down the trail, which was partly concealed from the cabins by a natural growth of brush and trees. They walked stiffly in their high-heeled boots, and few words were spoken. This man, every member of the band sensed, was different. His coldness was the deadly coldness of Sanchez himself. But. he lacked Sanchez’s high, nerv- ous tension. Some thought he might be Jud Tremper, but others were of the opinion Tremper would not walk — Western Story Magazine into Calico Hole. It was unfortun- ate indeed, they decided, that the Ranger’s name had come up, other- wise this calm young man might even now be numbered among them. “Crunch! Crunch!” The gravel under their boots slipped and set- tled, only to be disturbed by the next man. “Crunch! Crunch!” Dan thought. “Death! Death!” The sound took on a new meaning. It suddenly occurred to him the men about him believed he was to die. Their exultation was deadened partly by their curiosity toward his careless manner. He had faced death before, but it usually involved. gun play, and when a man is hit- ting back with fists or bullets, he hasn’t time to think of himself and death. “Death! Death!’ They turned into a narrow path and walked in single file to the slope. He was go- ing to die without a chance to hit back. The instant he raised his hands, other smooth and swift hands would go for weapons, and dust would spurt from his clothing as their bullets struck. A tremor passed through his nerv- ous system, and his face changed. He knew some of the color drained, as 1f the heart had stopped beat- ing. El Mudo informed Sanchez: “He’s afraid! He’s yellow. Soon he’ll talk.” Sanchez nodded in satisfaction. He never wanted to appear to be -jn doubt before his men, or in El Mudo’s presence. He must always be right. El Mudo held to the same — theory. As long as he was right in his conclusions, men would fear and obey him. Even Sanchez. The man who gained the upper hand in a con- flict with the pair would have to outfox them in a clash of wits rather than bullets. | On the brink of the hale thet. was.