Fifteen Western Tales, March 1954 — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

> \ ; FIFTEEN WESTERN TALES dee, held it quivering there a moment, and then gazed at his daughter, suspecting her wi CONSpiracy. . “You go on inside, honey,” Gilcher said. Marie quickly obeyed the polite order. Pardee’s steady glance did not erase the fear from her face.as she entered the barn. AFTER HIS daughter had left, Gilcher’s steely eyes swung once around the cir- cle of cowhands who were beginning to sense the tension between the two men at the door. The onlookers. drifted inside as abruptly as if Gilcher had herded them with a whip. | Gilcher fastened his eyes on Pardee’s face. ‘Most likely Marie told you a young- ster with a lot of guts and gall could pick up the Double O for a song and make a go of it. Last two years since her Ma passed on it seems she gets a lot of amuse- ment out of tormenting me. But she ought to have teld you to ask Jeff Lansing a few questions before you took a deed to it. Lan- sing just pulled out and left the place a couple years back.”’ “Lansing didn’t need to tell me much,” said Pardee, with a newly acquired hard- ness in his voice. “His shoulder’s still stiff from the slug you put in it. Maybe you can swell your chest out a little bigger when you know his nerve is gone and he’s satisfied. to run a-saddle shop in El Paso. He told me the two gents who owned the place before him are still carrying the scars of your lead. I’ve heard that the sheriff doesn’t even ask questions in cases like that because you can change sheriffs just by saying you don't like him. You're a big *man, Gilcher’” The sting of Pardee’s sarcasm caused ailcher to lower his head briefly, but as he looked up he appeared to have a grip on nis anger. Yet he said, stubbornly, “The last three men on the Double O didn’t last a. wees Pardee. You'd better think that over.’ “Why, Gilcher ?* What makes you think you've got to boss graze that cade belong to you?” Gilcher’s eyes narrowed. “You'll hear I’m piggish, Pardee. I’m not. . It’s the others. My Anchor graze ends fifty feet short of Kildeer Creek. Three men at Double O have built fences on my side of the creek. They said they were afraid I’d crowd my cattle onto their range and take it over. I’ve torn that fence down three times and there’s always been some lead-— slinging afterwards. But I can’t graze my cattle on one side of my range and have them walk ten miles across to the next wa- ter hole. I’m not a killer, Pardee. But I believe there’s some things that have to be shared by neighbors in a big country.” A dry chuckle came from Dale Pardee’s lips. With his head turned toward the door, he sneered, “You never shared anything with anybedy, Gilcher.”’ | “No,” Gilcher admitted guiltily, “I reckon I haven't. But nobody ever let me do a favor. Everybody’s afraid I’m trying to take something away from him, so little folks walk around me with their hackles up.” ~ Pardee shot the man a level gaze. ‘I’m not afraid of you, Gilcher.”’ “You ought to be,” Gilcher said. The muscles of his thick neck corded as the anger in him renewed. “‘You’ve got more reason than anybody. When you start to string up the wire my men have cut off that fence along the creek you'll—” “T can’t do that, Gilcher,’’ Pardee cut in quietly. “One of the first things I did when I moved into the shack up there a few days ago was pull down the poles.”’ He ran his hand along the worn butt of his six-gun for the first time since Gilcher’s arrival. “I don’t need a fence to keep An- % . : ~ chor cows off my spread, Gilcher.“I’m leav- ing that job up to you.”’ HE SCRAPE of the fiddles and the thump of dancing feet were loud in the stillness which surrounded Pardee’s words. ——. ae > comicbooks.com