Fifteen Western Tales, January 1953 — page 61: what you’re looking at

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

DRAW FAST—OR DIE! | der. Now the sound and the flame stopped. He staggered back and leaned against the wall. The dark blob shrank lower and lower and it fell with a dull thump on the floor. Now Barney felt the blood searing his flesh, knew the way that bullets burned under his skin. Begbie moved out of the corner. His voice was tight. “‘You did for ’em good, Barney. God, but it was short!” A coughing curse came up from the floor. Begbie swore. ‘‘He ain’t dead!”’ His gun swept up, froze as the voice gasped from the floor. “Damn your cut-throat soul to black hell, Begbie. . you been here . . him get me... to shut me up.... to kill. Brackson, then. . .” | His voice faded out beneath the sudden blast of Begbie’s Colt.: Begbie’s body turned slowly. “Now you, Barney. You know too much. I’m damned sorry too.’ Barney tried to keep his body erect, keep it from sliding down the wall. That, Barney guessed, was ‘about as far as his short road went. He tried to lift the .45, and then wondered if it hadn’t been emptied of power. Footsteps pounded along the passageway outside, but no one dared open the door. Barney whispered .. . ““You had Blacky kill Brackson so the business would be all yours . . . but maybe Blacky decided to take the money .. . or maybe that was part of your idea...a blind... and you planned to get Blacky all the time, to shut him up... .” Begbie said softly. “That was the way I had it figured out, Barney. But you weren’t figured in. I never thought of you bein’ in it. Now vou can take all the blame. I can tie you and Jethro in together, and say you both had a shoot-out.” Barney’s hand had been closing around the back of the chair. With a final thrust of strength, he hurled it upward. It lifted Begbie’s gun arm as the Colt blsted the ceiling. Barney pitched away from the wall, Hire me brought his right hand up and around in a heavy arc. The pistol barrel cracked across Begbie’s face. Begbie groaned; he staggered back, and the gun in his hand flashed blindly as Barney struck again. He felt bone and flesh crunch beneath the heavy barrel. Begbie went backward. He . you let was crawling and Barney fell beside him. He grabbed Begbie’s shirt and held him, and he kept lifting and bringing the pistol barrel down. And he was still doing that, when someone finally worked up enough courage to open the door. But it was too late then to do anything for Begbie. And after Barney told the story, no one cared. : * x * They patched him up down below, Barney sitting at a table of honor with everyone gathered around. Bat Masterson was mak- ing comments and admiring Barney’s nerve for waiting up there like that for Blacky Jethro. And there was U.S. Marshal, Earp, biting a dry cigar. He was a stringy man with the alert, cautious air of a fighting cock and his fingers played constantly with his gun, the nails clicking the metal. And he, too, had complimentary things to say about Barney Stevens’ guts. And all Barney could think of was how much he wished old Seth Brackson was around to hear what they were saying, and that he could see Clara’s face again. They took-a long time fixing him up. A deep side slash and a punctured shoulder are not easy to patch. Now and then, some- one handed him a shét of Brackson’s special reserve whiskey. Barney didn’t feel any pain. Mike Barlow, Brackson’s lawyer, took -the opportunity to read part of Brackson’s will, and everybody heard it, and congratulated Barney with loud cheers and roars of ap- proval. “T, Seth Brackson, Lendl bequeath my half of the ownership of the Brackson-Beg- bie Saloon to Barney Stevens, a lad who should know by now whether or not he can handle it the way I’d want it handled... .” Barney got up, and started across the sawdust floor. “Think you can handle it that way, Barney?” Mike Barlow called after him pleasantly. _ Barney smiled. “Tl be back to see,” he said. He climbed the steps of the Tarryington Hotel, this time with a firm hard stride. He opened the door and went in. He bent over the bed and picked her up, and carried her to the window. A little gasp came from her as she saw the dried blood on his shirt, the bandages. 61 MICLOOOK CO CO