Western Story Magazine, May 12, 1934 — page 53: what you’re looking at

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

Outlaws Of Calico Hole —_| 51. there would be a hundred thousand dollars available in the El Rio bank. “Why,” faltered the teller, “we never wrote Wagon Gap any such letter. We don't owe them a dime.” His hands were in the air, and he began to talk fast. El Mudo’s instincts warned him, and a horrible cry came from his throat. It was the first sound Dan had heard him utter, and it was wrenched from him by a sudden re- alization of dire peril, coupled with a madness to kill everything in his path. “Kall Stuart!” Sanchez snarled, then he leaped through a side win- dow. He was running when his boots touched the ground, and EI Mudo came behind him. El! Mudo’s hand flashed, and Dan saw the flame spurt from the muzzle of his .45, and a bullet creased his shoulder. “So it’s one of us,” Dan cried, and he ran toward the dumb one, whose gun was spurting lead. Sanchez was cutting in at one side, trying to save himself from gunfire and at the same time reach his horse. His deadly eyes roved, his lips snapped orders to his men, who were pouring from near-by structures, ready to shoot their way clear. EI] Mudo dropped a gun and drew a second from his holster. His rage was disturbing his aim, and as yet Dan had not fired. He was running toward the dumb one, further to shatter his nerve. Retreat would have meant instant death, for he had seen E] Mudo shoot on occasion. A hundred feet from the man, Dan’s gun cracked, and El Mudo’s arms went back, as if he were stretching. He shuddered from head to foot, then, his face twisting into a snarl, he tried to bring the gun to bear once more—to kill one more man, and that one the man he be- lieved had tricked him into a trap. Dan did not fire again. He knew a second shot would not be neces- sary, and there was still Sanchez to reckon with, and he did not know how many others. Three of the outlaws ran down an alley; only to return, running low and _ yelling: “Texas Rangers!” A voice shouted: we ll wipe you out!” It was a voice that filled half the town, and only one man in the Southwest had one like it—‘Tex” Crawford, who had been in the Rangers since he was a youngster. One of the outlaws dropped his gun and thrust his hands into the air. Tex turned, and the man went for a second gun lke a flash. Tex whirled and fired. ‘The outlaw pitched onto his face in thé street. Dan slunk along a wall, raced across an open spot, and leaped into the saddle. A gun cracked, and he almose fell to the ground, but, set- ting his teeth and grasping the sad- dle horn, he managed to stay up. His heels went into his horse’s flanks. “Light out, boy!” he shouted, and the animal responded. A half block away, Sanchez was running beside his frightened horse, trying to mount and make his es- cape. “Get back,” he snarled at Dan; }?? “Don’t draw their fire this way! “Sanchez! You can’t get away! You haven’t a chance. The Rangers have surrounded El] Rio, and Jud Tremper is here to accept your 1nvi- tation for a show-down. He’s here to settle with you for killing his brother.” Sanchez’s horse reared and went down as a bullet struck it. The raider got clear with a tigerish spring and dived into the brush. Dan “Surrender, or jumped from his horse asa six-gun.