Western Story Magazine, May 12, 1934 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

26 Street & Smith’s Western Story Magazine “T wish I understood you, Dan Stuart,” she said presently. “Per- haps if I knew the measure of your courage = “That wouldn’t help you,” he said gently. “Courage has neither weight nor bulk. It can’t be measured, so —whatisit? I don’t know, but you have more than I ever hope to pos- sess,’ he went on. “All women have. You came, unafraid, into Calico Hole, knowing you could never leave without Sanchez’s per- mission. You came because you love your brother. If you’re think- ing I showed courage because I snapped back at Sanchez—well, for- get it. I had nothing to lose, so why not convince him I came to join his band? A coyote will fight if corner *“Y ou’re not changing my opinion, Mr. Stuart,” she calmly informed him. “Something about you has eluded me from the first, but I’ve got it now. You're being driven on by some tremendous purpose, and nothing can stop you. You may not succeed, but 1t won’t be because you haven’t risked everything to gain your ends. If you'll risk your life, then you'll risk Al’s and mine— every one’s.” “Aw, come now,” he protested; “you're making me a sort of he- angel one moment, and a devil the next. We seem to have the run of the Hole as long as we don’t attempt to leave; let’s have a look about.” “Dan Stuart,” she said sharply, “vou are trying to drag a red her- ring across the trail. Well, it won’t succeed. I won’t be thrown off the scent in any such casual manner.” And he saw that she was down- right angry. He walked slowly toward the graves, mentally trying to decide which was the worse—an outlaw with suspicions, or a girl with sus- -picions. “I’m going to have the last word,” he said over his shoulder, and grinned. “Innocent men have been hanged because somebody jumped at conclusions or was loose with words. “And that, Dan Stuart, is the red herring again,” she answered. “But we'll let it go for the present.” L, tired, started for his cabin, but Alice, after a moment’s doubt, decided to remain with Dan and examined him further. She did not want to make a fool of herself, nor did she care to miss any- thing which might point to danger for her brother. Dan walked along, -reading the names on the headboards’ Sanchez had erected. They stood, however, as monuments of his _ personal achievement rather than marks of respect to the dead. “Dred Mor- ton,” Dan read, “‘sheriff; Mike San- ders, sheriff; Don Remp, Texas Ranger; Slim Tremper, Texas Ranger.” He paused, stared, and turned to the girl. “So Jud Tremper’s kid bret Slim was killed by Sanchez, eh?” he cried. “That was the rumor, but hardly anybody believed it.” “Jud Tremper knew it,” Alice Ford answered; “Sanchez sent Tremper Slim’s last letter and a sketch of the grave. And Jud went on a vacation. All the Tremper courage is buried: in that grave, I guess. Come, let’s get out of here and forget strife, murder, and graves. Let’s, please, find some- thing beautiful and sweet in life, if only for an hour.” “You're right,” he agreed; “let’s walk around the Hole. I see some mighty fine saddle stock m that east pasture.” Gomichbooks.com