Fifteen Western Tales, March 1954 — page 87: what you’re looking at

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

- os ne ~~ aS ; wae = ei | ae Sos A = * “ “a ae ee + o”s : > ie) vate RIDE THE. WILD “TRAN? eve a a > ats Stee a a ow. aaa? p “aod ried ig: _— > as ee » 3 Yt gape i 7 le ~ r= ~ ine e. a Se ee en ee gs ate ate < ie ee od Soa 2S Sg ee I ae A 4 Cp ee fax = ‘ ‘ re Er, re 2 SS ee = ae ee carry-all box. he had made and nailed inside the wagon. One of the three siuhted him as he came running down the slope of the bank. They scattered, each running a different direction. Dan took after the one nearest him—a tall, lanky youth who ran with ungainly awk- wardness towards the crowd around the cor- _ rals. Dan overtook him as he halted, tugging at a gun. Dan was on him before he got the long-barreled Colt clear of its holster. They went down in a cloud of dust, fighting The crowd, eager for any sort of excitement, gathered around them. The thief was bigger than Dan. He fought hard, gouging, kicking and biting. And Dan, finding a sudden outlet for his pent-up anger, welcomed the combat. Dan was strong, cool-headed and quick as a’ cougar. Even so, his opponent got him withsa forearm about his throat. As Dan was breaking the hold, the thief reached with his left hand and whipped a short- bladed knife from his belt. Dan struggled, trying to get to his gun, but it was out of _ teach. He clamped his fingers about the wrist of the man on top. Then, with a quick pressure of his strong fingers, he wrenched the knife from his enemy’s hand. It dropped io the dust, and Dan had broken out of his choking grip. With swift, punishing blows he- battered the thief’s face. There was the crack of a broken nose and a howl of pain. Dan smashed another blow into the bloody ~ face, shoved a handful of dirt into the squawling mouth. Then twisting the big, threshing form over with a hammer lock, he sat on the youth’s back and with his free hand ground the thief’s battered, blerding face into the yellow dust. A man tried to jerk Dan off the choking, - howling opponent. Dan shook free of the ‘grip on his collar and his gun covered the intruder. “Get away from me or I’ll kill you!” Dan _panted. And the man recoiled from the ' gun as if from a rattler. Dan leaped to his feet and kicked the — sputtering youth to a standing position. “Now dig down in your pocket and give me the wallet you stole outa my wagon,” he panted, or I’ll finish the job I started prontos you dirty snake.” “T'ain’t got it!” slobbered the tall youth, spitting blood and dirt from his torn mouth. “So help me, I ain’ got it. One of the others taken it off me. Don’t kill me!” = ™ Le, ~ - oe Se + oe = wt 4 “a ike Wo 76 4 id Poe “Tf I don’t git that wallet and every dol~ 1») lar in it, I'l] shoot your belly off! Git goin’. “TJ don’t dast! They’d beat the head off me if—” Dan had shoved his six-shooter back into * its holster. He took one quick step forward, hit out with a straight, clean left that dropped the gangling youth in the dirt. As he croughed his bent arm covering his bleeding face, Dan stood over him.” “Are you goin’ to take me to ’em?” he gritteds “Or will I kick your face in?” Beaver Smith pushed through the crowd. He looked at the blood-smeared youth, then at Dan. His pale eyes held an ugly gleam. “What do you mean by half killin’ one of my men?” he snarled at Dan. _ “He stole my wallet out of my wagon,” said Dan, his hand on his gun as he faced the towering plainsman. “Him and _ two more sneak thieves. I caught this ’un. Any man in the crowd that ain’t scared to talk the truth, will tell you the same. They watched me ketch him and beat the truth outa him. I want my money. “You might be the boss of the wagon train, mister, but you ain’t the law here at Pecos. I ain’t afraid of you and your guns. This ain’t your affair. You keep out of it.” Dan’s guns slid from its holster with a smooth, swift movement that came from long practice—the training of his father, Jim Wyeth, Texan. For a long moment the buckskin man glared at Dan. Then he stooped down and yanked the slobbering, battered youth to his feet. “Tf you stole anything, give it ak ” he COMNCIOOKS —- et: (E@)