Western Story Magazine, May 12, 1934 — page 34: what you’re looking at

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

32 bore a nasty crease where a bullet had struck its shoulder. Flies were already buzzing around the wound. “Tl fix up this nag,” Dan volun- teered. 73 9 = Go ahead,” an outlaw agreed; “we've got to dig a slug out of Joe’s back.” 3 HE horse winced under Dan’s ministrations, and Joe bel- lowed with pain as his com- panions applied rough surgery. Through it all, Sanchez paced the piazza with tigerish strides, striving to relax from the long, tense hours. El Mudo, of different. stuff, sat calmly in a chair and smoked. Peace of a sort settled down on the group by evening. The meal was late, the cook wisely waiting un- til the men had relaxed. Good wine before the meal mellowed their hard- ness slightly, and conversation grew brisk. One laughed suddenly. “T’ll never forget the look on that cashier’s face when I told him we was the Sanchez band. Sweat came out on his face, and he shook all over. I let him have it. He knew he was goin’ to die, and he looked like somebody whose feelin’s was hurt.” He roared with laughter. “His hands was clawin’ at the ceilin’, and he was yellin’ his head off.”’ “But the funniest was that deputy sheriff,” a second man said. “He had a bead on me, and was just about to pull the trigger when San- chez stuck his gun over the wall and let him have it. Smack! The bul- let got him in the stomach, and he erabbed hisself and danced a jig, then fell head-first into the dirt, head buttin’ round on the ground, and feet still dancin’ up and down. Haw! Haw! Haw!” Laughter ran around the table. Street & Smith’s Western Story Magazine “That was his wife that come yell- in’ out of the house,” the first said. “Never knowed a woman could yell like that.” Alice dropped her knife and fork and left the table. Again laughter read. | “Too much for the gal,” some one cried. Al finished his meal and followed Alice. “There'll be a big drunk to-night,” he explained. “They got ten thou- sand dollars and are feelin’ good.” “Al, how can you throw in with such a crowd?” the girl asked in a wretched voice. “And you, Dan— you laughed with them.” “T threw in with them to get some of our cattle Two-spot Delaney had branded, and now I’m in with them up to my ears,” Al answered. “We'd better hide out,’ he went on in a low voice, “until this celebration is ended. Ii Dan’s underfoot, some- body’s liable to call him Jud Trem- per or Beasley in disguise. And if. they see you, Alice, somebody’ll want to start a dance, and that'll start a fight.” The three withdrew to the brush and spent the night listening to the brawling. Of those involved, only El Mudo remained sober. Sanchez drank alone in his room, brooding, building up wrongs real and fancied, and promising revenge that would take diabolical forms. It was dawn before the men fell asleep, when the three returned to get a little rest on their own ac- count. HERE were no more raids, Sanchez deciding to appear to let things quiet down and give Dan his chance at the Wagon Gap Bank. Two months from the day Dan entered the Hole, Sanchez a3) Gomichbooks.com