Fifteen Western Tales, January 1953 — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

RIDE WITH THE GUNSMOKE JUDAS 21 ing of having his own land and building his cabins and marrying and settling down and raising children.” “T never thought such a thing,” bitterly. “You did, Chet,” she said. talked about it before with a girl. named Lorraine Pettigrew.” he said ‘And you had A girl IS nostrils flared and the muscles were tight knots at the butts of his jaw. He had talked, then. And he had told the truth. The real truth that lay deep within him, smouldering and*churning, the dream of peace that was at constant war with his hatreds and his thirst for revenge. “I lied to her then,” he said. “I told her what she wanted to hear.” There was deep resentment in his voice. “I’ve ridden a long ways, Jane, and my one thought was to kill your father. Anything I have done or said was building toward that one thing. I came here for that reason and that reason alone. If you thought you could change me, I’m sorry about it, because you can’t.” “T can’t change you,” she said, man can change himself.” “Tt’s a woman’s way of thinking,” he said. “It’s broken a lot of hearts.” She seemed tired—too completely tired to even raise her voice. sadly. “You pitiful men. You and my father both. If you kill my father will it end your memories? If he kills you will he sleep better?” “Pete Bryan sleeps well,” he said, “a nd he eats well.” She shook her head. “There? S no under- standing in you, is there?” she said. “You don’t see that what tortures you could tor- ture another man do you?” . “T know what I know,’ he said. “Do you?” she said. “Do you know that my father made a mistake once because he believed a lie? Do you know that he had a brother—a brother he loved very much?. My uncle. My uncle was found there in Kansas, stripped, beaten and hanging from a limb. Some said it was the farmers who did it and “but a my father was part of a band that killed and slaughtered and burned because of it.” She moved in front of ‘Chet Wainworth and made him meet her eyes. Wainworth. I’ve seen him-sit in front of the fire by the hour, rubbing his hands together, “You fool,” she said . ~ Chet?” he asked. - Chet said. “My father | has never had a full night’s sleep since, Chet - twisting them and turning them, trying to rub the blood away. And instead of getting down on his knees and admitting his mistake to God, he keeps fighting, swearing that every farmer that ever lived brought this thing on him when it’s only his own con- science that bothers him.” A short sob broke her voice and she shrugged her shoulders: as if it didn’t matter any more. “Go ahead, Chet Wainworth. Take a horse from the corral. I'll give you your gun belt and your gun and I'll give you the rifle and the am- munition, too, because you'll need it. Go ahead, Chet Wainworth, keep building a fire under you revenge and your hatred and sometime when it has consumed you com- pletely, think of Lorraine sane and the. dream you had—” The tears spilled over and she ran toward the cabin. She paused at the doorway and glanced at him briefly. “And think of me,” she said bitterly. | : She hurried inside the cabin and threw : out his gun belt and his six-shooter and the rifle and its shells. They landed in the dirt in the yard and the cartridges scattered and he had to pick them out of the dust. Then, the door slammed and through the shattered ' window, he could hear her sobbing. Chet . Wainworth took the weapons and started walking slowly toward the corral. He saw Big Sam standing there, waiting for him, : and then he saw the saddled and badly used» Presently Doc Acton - horse in the corral. came out of the shed and started unsaddling the horse. He didn’t look at Chet Wain- worth. He spoke acrass his shoulder. “You leaving, Chet?” * “You intend to stop me, law man?” Chet said. Doc Acton turned and looked steadily at _ Chet, his cavernous eyes serious, his thin, Bo you want td be drawn face grey with tiredness. stopped?” “T seem to have.run off at the mouth,” “T figured maybe you’d want to: be a hero. You could set up a scaffold in the main street. of¢he town, hang me and leave - me there for a day or so. That ought to set you in pretty good with Pete Bryan.” “T suppose it would,” Doc Acton said. suppose it would. at that.” He Stared stead- ily at Chet. “But I’m most interested in setting good with myself, Chet. That. bay . there is a good horse. You'll find what’s Coniicboooks.c©