2-Gun Western, February 1954 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

TIME FOR A HANGIN" done what his nature demanded, by pitching in to help a neighbor, and it gave him a wry satisfaction to know that this trail was not a cold one. The Twenty Dollar was a small mine, located in the bottom of its canyon. A man with a much-stained shirt came out of a tunnel as Jed and Tatum approached and greeted them genially. “Bought any beef Jed asked. The miner nodded. “Just the oth- er day. Sure was a treat to us, after months of nothin’ but ’tack an’ beans. Got a lot of it left, hangin’ back in the tunnel where it’s cool.” “What did the hombre who sold it to you look like?” “Well,” the miner said carefully, “he was a little feller. Kind of stooped an’ dried-up lookin’. Had what was left of a cigarette stuck on his lip the whole time he was here. Said his name was Tatum.” “Eli Denn!” old Jump exclaimed. “He allus did wait for a nod from Black Jack afore he dared to spit— _ now he’s doin’ Jack’s dirty work for *im! Likely he was the one that bur- ied that hide!” Jed assured the now-worried miner that his purchase of the beef would not involve him in any trouble, and turned down the man’s invite for supper. Old Jump, who liked to talk mining, complained about that as they headed ‘back down the canyon. “We've found out what we need to know,” Jed told him. “This was .Yigged to get you in trouble. And _ Eli’s a man who can be made to talk, -~ when we get him in a corner. All of a sudden, though, I’ve got me a hunch that we ought to be gettin’ back to the basin pronto.” The oldster looked at him sharply, and made no more complaints. When they made camp that night Jed swung the supper talk around to mining, largely to cheer Tatum up by giving him a whack at his favor- ite subject. “Have those fellows got any chance of making a go of it up there, Jump? That mine’s an old one—somebody must have gone off and left it because he’d decided it was no good,” Tatum snorted. “Proves you don’t lately?” 11 savvy minin’. An old workin’s gives a man a look at the formations under- ground an’ lets him figger his chances. Plenty of mines been abandoned because they lost the. ore vein, tem- porary, an’ the money boys drawed the purse strings tight. Then some- body comes along an’ digs ten feet an’ hits it—or half a mile an’ finds nothin’. That’s minin’.” “Too big a gamble for my taste,” Jed said. “No bigger gamble than this fool cow business, I reckon! I was aimin’ to do a little of both when I paced off my homestead to include the en- trance of the Golden Lady. There’s a mine for you, bucko—shafts down to the six hundred foot level, drifts an’ stopes that go ’way out to hellan- gone. I prowled ’em all, but never did find what I was after.” “Proves my point,” Jed said, pok- ing up the fire under the can of Ar- buckle. “A man can eat his cows if he has to. But rock, no.” He set a hard pace the next day. They reached the rim of the basin in late afternoon and stopped to blow their horses and take a wide look- around. Tatum said impatiently, “Soon’s we get the truth out of Eli we'll go straight after the danged ‘breed that hired ’im!” Jed frowned. “Maybe Eli was work- ing on his own.” “Him? That snivelin’ son ain’t got the backbone to turn a flapjack with- out bein’ told. Hell, it’s plain to see what the ’breed’s after—he’s got the best range in the basin, but wants it all. This is his Injun way of goin’ after it!” Jed could understand the oldster’s fuming resentment of Sawdey. Black Jack was a driver, a crowder—maybe that was because he wanted to prove that he was as good a man as anyone who had all-white blood. But his ranch was at the far end of the basin, beyond the town. If he wanted to spread out, why would be begin up here? Jed lifted his reins, saying only, “We'd better push on.” When they reached Jump’s cabin the blow fell. Lucy was not there. The place was in disorder, with plen- ty signs of a struggle—the inside of the door and the wall beside it were COMIC LOOKS (E©)