Fifteen Western Tales, March 1954 — page 88: what you’re looking at

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

vd ty \ ~ 88 ‘said. A sound of feigned determination filled his large voice. “T ain’t got it, Beaver. They taken it off - me. I ain’t gotvit.” . ~ *“Vou heard what he said,” Beaver Smith said. “He hain’t got your damned money.” “He'll git it,” said Dan, “or I’ll kill him.” ’ He turned to the whining thief. “Are you goin’ to git my wallet, you thievin’ snake?” _Dan’s anger increased. The lanky youth nodded, wiping dirt and blood from his face with the torn sleeve of his shirt. “I’ll fetch it back to your wagon.” Beaver Smith turned the thief loose with a shove that sent him staggering. . “One thing I won’t stand for is stealin’!” he blustered to the crowd in a swaggering effort to ignore Dan’s challenge and the gun Dan still held in his hand. “Is he one of your outfit?” asked Dan quietly. “What if he is, ean “TI might need a wet-nurse, like you said. But I was man enough to take him to a whuppin’. And if he'll fetch his two part- ners, I'll take ’em both on. I’m not too young and weak to point a gun—and I savvy which end of it to take a-holt of!” _At a fair distance the battered, bullet- torn army canteen still swung from the’ six- foot rawhide thong. Dan saw it. “Anybody kin hit the canteen from where you was shootin’ at it,’ said Dan, taking advantage of his moment, “but I’m won- derin’ if you kin cut the rawhide that it hangs by, standin’ here?” “Meanin’, sonny,” leered the lanky man, spitting a stream of brown tobacco juice in ’ the dust, “that you think you kin cut that rawhide with a bullet?” “T was askin’ you if you could,” said Dan quietly, “but since you’re passin’ the buck to me, I reckon I'll have a try.” The big gun in Dan’s hand seemed to shoot before it was aimed. The battered canteen dropped to the ground with a tinny clatter. Dan’s bullet had cut the rawhide ~ thong. CHAPTER TWO" Wagon Wheels West . [" WAS shooting. Mighty fine shooting. FIFTEEN WESTERN TALES” or qe And every man in the crowd was willing, ~ eager to say so. The lanky Beaver Smith. stood looking at the severed thong as if - he were seeing something of magic. “The lad goes with us,” roared a drunken man. . “He shore does!” said a cowhand who sat his horse with some other dust-powdered - cowpunchers who had ridden up. “If you don’t want him with your slow-poke wagon — layout, string along with us. I kin use a extra cow- boy. Young feller, if you kin set a bronc the button is plumb welcome to — half as good as you handle that hawg-laig, ° you done got a job. You don’t need to pay your way, neither. How about it, young fel- ler? Want a job?” e “T’ll tell a man,” grinned: Dan. Then he remembered. “But I reckon I can’t. I ain’t alone. I got my mother along. She’s at the wagon. Only for that I’d be sure proud to hire out to you.” = The cowpuncher rode up alongside Dan, his weight in one stirrup. He had a snub- nosed broad face that was covered with huge, dark freckles. A stubble of fiery red whiskers covered his square jaws. F under his dust-covered hat showed a slfock of badly trimmed red hair. His eyes were the bluest Dan had ever seen. “I’m Red Riley,” he said, grinning so that his big white teeth showed. “I’m in crete of the Bar R trail hérd that’s comin’ up the river a few miles back yonder. I seen From the whole damn. play from the time you jumped them three coyotes at your camp. Us boys was ridin’ up that direction and seen you whup that long-eared button. And heard you talk right up to the buckskin boss-man of this wagon spread. I’m short- handed and kin use you. But if you got a_ wagon and your mother, that kinda puts:the kibosh on it. Son, if you want to go along =€omick 900 4 > Se ‘S.CO a a * = ye 7 ee: al Puan © Sh pte ~~» - £ = ie aa