Western Story Magazine, May 12, 1934 — page 79: what you’re looking at

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

Quick Sixes "07 Reckon he’s told you that. He was talkin’ to a man in his private of- fice, at the rear of the lobby, so I had to wait. Man he was talkin’ to was a big jasper; hadn’t shaved for a week, looked like. I noticed when ‘he finally came out that he was wearin’ two guns in half-breed holsters. Sort o’ made me wonder. It was that same hombre that led the holdup outfit into the bank!” Long Tom Travis leaned across his desk suddenly. “Cut-down holsters, Dark-complected man, stooped?” he asked. Vestry nodded. ‘“‘That’s him.” Travis struck the desk with a hamlike fist. “Blacky Weston!” he exclaimed. “Couldn’t be anybody else! Big re- ward out for him, too! Wanted for half a dozen bank robberies and a train holdup down south o’ here.” Travis shot a curious look at Dean. “Funny he’d come in t’ see you, sir, Just before he pulled off the job.” Dean shrugged. “It would have been funny, sheriff, if he had done that. But—he didn’t! Vestry is making his story up out of whole cloth as he goes along!” Vestry took a _ step forward; caught himself. say? 3 you sort oO “Dave Wilson can tell you whether it’s the truth or not.” He stopped, remembering. “Wilson’s dead! I was forgettin’ that.” Franklin Dean chuckled _ de- risively. “Go on with your—fairy tale, Vestry,” he said. “It’s inter- esting!” It was a moment before Vestry spoke again. This business was more serious than he had believed, seemingly. His voice was low and carefully modulated when he spoke at last: “I asked Dean for two thousand bucks. He refused; said he wasn’t Joanin’ money on cattle any more. That made me sore. Cattlemen— my dad, and men like him—have supported Dean, you see? My ac- count, even since dad died, has averaged five times the amount I was askin’ for these past four years. I called Dean a_ double-crossin’ skunk; accused him of throwin’ in with these crooked land-develop- ment companies to make a few filthy dollars by cuttin’ the throats of the men who have been his friends! Dean refused to talk to me; said there was a bank examiner in town and he had t’ get things in shape so the books could be examined this afternoon. I told him I figgered I’d make out to get the cash I needed in spite of him, one way or another.” “And you held up the bank to do it!’ Dean shot the accusation at him triumphantly. Vestry’s lips tightened; relaxed again. “Somethin’ I’d seen through that glass partition of Dean’s office while he was talkin’ to that stran- ger had made me sort of curious,” he went on slowly. “I stuck around! Right after noon, I saw this same man and four others go moseyin’ into the bank, and right after that I heard somebody yell, and there was two shots.” The stranger sitting next to Dean interrupted then. ‘What was it you saw that made you suspicious, Ves- try?” he asked. Vestry glanced at Travis. The sheriff nodded. “Answer him, Jim,” he = said. “This is Mr. Mathews, the bank examiner Dean was tellin’ you about.” Vestry started to speak; caught himself after a glance at Dean. “Why, nothin’ much—really,” he said. “Nothin’ I can—explain, exactly. I just—thought it was funny that a maconichooks.com om