Western Story Magazine, May 12, 1934 — page 47: what you’re looking at

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

Outlaws Of Calico Hole a change, you see, and Al brought it about. If he’d been an honest citizen, I’d bet even money a jury would call it self-defense, but be- ing one of Sanchez’s men, makes a difference. Here he is. You can talk to him through the bars.” Alice started to run forward, then checked the impulse. “Go ahead, Sally,” she whispered. Al drew “Sally” s slender arms through the bars, and she slipped them around his neck. Their lips met, and low words passed between them. Chris came over after a while and shook hands. Al caught his breath; Chris’s presence was almost too much for him. “With you backing my hand; Al- ice and Dan Stuart in the play, I can’t lose,’ Al said with confidence. “Did Dan say he’d get you out of this?” Alice cried sharply. “That’s the impression he gave: Id never—hang—for Beasley’s death. What Dan says, goes with me,” he added. “Now tell us what happened?” Alice insisted. “Beasley saw me, I offered to sur- render, then I saw by his eyes he was going to kill me and call it self- defense, so I let him have it. I had to,’ Al concluded. “That’s the way it must have happened,” the jailer observed; “it’s his story, and he’s sticking to it.” L FORD stuck to the story A when Judge Ritchie arrived and went into the case. The judge proved to be a mild little man with silver hair and keen gray eyes. He had a habit of peering over the top of his glasses at witnesses, and another habit of trapping those who - lied on the witness stand. “We will go over and look at the exhibits in this case,’ he mformed Alice and Sally the second day after 45 his arrival. “It is going to take more than a mere statement that Al killed > in self-defense. We've got to prove ines The exhibits consisted of the weapons taken from Al, and the bul- Jet removed from Beasley’ s body. “This is the bullet?” Ritchie asked. “And this is the gun it came from?” “Yes, ju d ge,” swered. “And this is Al’s gun?” the judge inquired, turning to Alice. “Yes, of course,” the girl replied, then she looked closely, and a pre- the prosecutor an- test burst from her lips. “This is not Al’s gun at all! It’s a gun I’ve never seen before. I swear it. See the notch on the walnut butt plate?” She pressed her hand to her mouth and concentrated her thoughts. “Wait! I have seen that gun be- fore. It is one Sanchez gave Dan Stuart when——” “When—what?” the prosecuting attorney asked sharply. Alice had come within an ace of saying, “When Dan set out to rob the Wagon Gap Bank.” She choked back the words and said calmly: “When Dan explained he needed a. gun.” “Ah, yes!” the prosecutor mur- mured. Judge Ritchie said: “This is im- portant, Miss Ford. It suggests that perhaps Al did not kill Beasley after all. This Dan Stuart may have made it appear the boy did the kill- ing. Let’s talk it over with him. I'll do the querying, if you please.” The judge hurried to the jail, and his movements were like a hound’s on a fresh scent. “Al,” he said, peering over the tops of his glasses, “that wasn’t your gun that killed Beasley.” Surprise flashed over Al’s face, then his emotions. ETA <s ty, onl