Fifteen Western Tales, January 1953 — page 42: what you’re looking at

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

42 oo FIFTEEN WESTERN TALES™ through the group of men, and mounted the sorrel. He kicked it and trotted it out into the street, riding stiffly, his eyes set ahead unseeing. When he had gone some distance, he reined in the pony gently and turned it half-around. Clayburn was standing where ‘he had left him, his gun still holstered at his side. Jesse measured the distance with his eyes. Forty yards. It was an easy shot for him. He could drill the old man before he got his gun up. Then, hooked around the neck of his horse, he’d be a small target for the townsmen. There probably wasn’t one in the pack who could shoot him before he got out of range. He needed that hundred dollars bad, as bad as he’d needed anything in his life. After all, the man was armed now. He had his chance. He wavered, his right hand motionless on the horn of the saddle, then suddenly reined the horse about and kicked it into a gallop. At the end of town he looked back again. The old man was still standing in the street, and he saw the door of Maria’s Cafe open. and saw the girl come out. She’d been watch-, ing, he thought, and the sharp doubt of his actions left him. It was with a feeling of re- lief that he forded the river and turned to- ward the spot where the Tolman brothers would be waiting. T WAS almost dark when he found the stand of cottonwood and the old, rotting fence. He rode along it slowly until he could make out the dim forms of the three men at the edge of the trees. Not knowing why, he loosened the gun in its holster before he swung his pony out of the shadow and rode into the clearing. “That you, Harder?” he heard Cole Tol- man yell. ‘“Veah,” Jesse answered. He reined in and waited for the three men to come out to him. “ve got your hundred dollars,” Cole Tol- man said softly. They stopped their horses in a semi-circle around him. “TI wish I could take it,” Jesse said. He tried to make out Cole Tolman’ s face in the half-light. “What’s that mean?” Cole said quickly, his voice rasping and suspicious. “Yt didn’t do the job,” Jesse said evenly. ‘The old man outsmarted me.” “T don’t get it, Harder,” Cole said, the same disbelief in his voice. “Old Clayburn’s an easy man to kill. I could do it with my left hand and that’s for sure, piker.” “Don’t try it,’ Jesse said softly. He edged the sorrel off sideways, bringing the three men into fuller view. Even in the darkness he could see the smoldering anger in Tol- man’s eyes. a ‘“Let’s move, men,” Tolman said. have to do this job ourselves.” He started .across the clearing, the two men falling in on each side of him. ‘See yuh, Harder,” Cole Tolman said. Jesse didn’t answer. Hé watched them go across the clearing, waiting until they were at the edge near the fence. He slipped the Colt out of the holster before he called soft- ly: “T said, don’t try it, Mr. Tolman!” — But as soon as he said it, he knew he had waited too long. The Mexican had already taken his gun out, and at the words he spun in his saddle and fired. The shot whined by Jesse’s head and crashed in the cottonwoods behind him. In a split instant Jesse had the Colt up. The gun exploded alongside the neck of the horse, causing the sorrel to jerk over, but Jesse saw the Mex double up, gut-shot, and fall thudding to the ground. . Two shots plunked into the hard dirt be- low him and then another, higher up, whined off to his left. He brought the Colt up far- ther, trying to steady the horse with his left hand. The gun jumped twice; he heard Jack Tolman let out a yell and saw him crumple in the saddle. He swung further to his right, found the dim silhouette of Cole and _ fired two shots, rapidly, but from the long whine of the bullets he knew he had missed. He brought the pony around, then peering into the darkness, waited for the returning shots that would tell him where his man was. He heard the two quick explosions and felt a hot, searing pain graze along his shoulder. He fired instantly and missed again and in one swift, jerking motion threw open the cylinder of the gun. He knocked the empty shells out and reached down to the cartridge belt, not looking, fighting against the panic, “We'll the ‘blood beating violently in his swollen temples. He saw Cole Tolman come along the fence line and turn sharply toward him, and then he saw the horse stumble against the broken fence log and go down, throwing the rider (Continued on page 113) COMiICcbookkS.cO