Fifteen Western Tales, March 1954 — page 37: what you’re looking at

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

SIX-GUNS SAY DIB! They had come to kill him. When not more than forty feet separated them, Cran- dell stepped out a little in front of his two gunmen, and the three of them stopped. Crandell’s face was white with rage. “You yellow-belly!” he said, and he - seemed to spit the words out of his mouth. Clay Evers kept walking. He*laughed. “You trying to get me to draw first, Crandell?” he said. cus a specialty of mine,” His hand was brineitg his gun up while he was still talking, and the suddenness of his move caught the three men off bal- ance. He fired from the hip, and his first bullet caught Macho Starnes in mid-- draw. The lean gunman screamed and sprawled in the dusty street, his feet kick- ing wildly as if he were trying to run. Evers dropped flat into the street and snapped a shot at Crandell, but the bullet was wide, and then both Crandell and his remaining gunman had their guns out and were firing. Evers rolled and triggered again, and this time the black-clad man jerked and threw his hands over his head. His gun. Spilled from his fingers and he- crumpled ‘ slowly to the ground. A bullet kicked dirt into Evers’s face and another sing@d his shoulder as it whined ever him. His eyes were smarting from the dirt in them, but for one brief instant - he saw the big bulk of Ard Crandell clear- ly, and he pulled the trigger. Crandell stag- gered and fell to his knees, but he made a desperate effort to raise his gun. Evers fired once more, and his shot and Crandell’s blended as one. A blinding white : pain seared Evers’s brain, but before the 2 engulfing wave of blackness hit him, he saw that his last shot had done its work. He saw Ard Crandell face down in the * hot dust. = HEN CLAY EVERS opened his eyes he saw that he was in the living room of a house, stretched out on a cushioned © sofa. His head ached dully, and when he a | eee - . a wash” ad raised his hand to it, he touched bandages. - He sat up slowly, and as he did so, Mary | Raines came into the room. Sudden relief softened the strained lines of her face as she saw him sitting up. “Thank heaven,” she said. “The doctor said you were ‘only unconscious, but I was afraid.” vers tues that if he was held for this shooting affair, the murder charge against him would certainly come out. ; “When three men attack you, it can’t be anything but self-defense,’ Mary was say- ing. ““A coroner’s jury met while you were being brought here to my house, and you’ve been cleared.” 3 “Crandell ?”’ Evers asked. is, too. broken shoulder.” Evers stood up. “I'll be going now,” he said. | She came to him. “I won't try to stop you,” she said, “because I know it wen’t do any good. But I wish I knew who you are. I wish I knew why you’ve done this. She stopped and looked away for a moment, and then she turned back to him. She said, “Come back some day, wont you?” There was no answer really, but he id “T'll try,” and then he went quickly out of the house. . | Someone had brought his horse around. He swung into the saddle and rode down the street toward town. Afternoon shad- ows were lengthening, but he could see the hills, red and purple in the distance. Back to the’ out-trails, the night riding}: the cold camps. Evers turned to look at, Mary Raines’s house. It was a small white_ bungalow with red and black hollyhocks growing at the windows and a row of tall poplars for shade. She stood in the doorway watching him, and she raised her hand when he looked back. When he came abreast of the sheriff's (Continued on page 109) = (E@) “Sins ed - COMIC OOO KS ~~ « se “Dead,”’ Mary Raines told him. “Stamnes =e The other man—Sprull—has a