2-Gun Western, February 1954 — page 37: what you’re looking at

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

EADMAN ON large enough, state and national of- ficers would be elected. With his pompous presence and great voice, Judge Bradshaw wanted to be on hand with silver oratory and get his name written in history. History won't wait long for a man. ae THE Judge’s mind on larg- er cares than unhung horse thieves, Windy decided he dared have a wagon tongue session with Rachel —he’d found this to be her name. While Bradshaw harangued he visit- ed with her. She said sadly, “I told you not to be caught around here any more.” “I couldn’t leave you.” “You can’t stay, you know.” “Not long enough to outstay. my welcome. But your dad has larger Cares on his mind than me.” “He’s always had room for a lot of little cares along with the large ones.” She gave him food. “You can tell your pappy that the river’s rising.” “Tf he had his say so, we'd pay and cross. In the long run this delay is going to cost more than the ferry toll.” It was a tender moment, when nei- ther could speak. Windy did not loi- ter and give her distress. He slipped to the mill shed, tethered his horse, and lay down in the sawdust pile. Maybe it was accident, maybe design, but after dark Judge Bradshaw had his two freight wagons and the light horse wagon draw apart from the rest of the park, not too distant from the landing. He had bought wood for a camp- fire, and Windy could see him pac- ing to and fro, making up that big shaggy head of his. Windy thought with him. The Judge must be on the way. Pushing on hard his outfit might catch up with another before they came to Indian country. These new folk might enjoy his oratory. Unless he got aloig, another silver- voiced politician would sit in the seat of the mighty. Windy waked about one o’clock in the morning. The camps were black in sleep. He heard the muffled roll ‘of wheels, the subdued voices of driv- ers urging their animals onward. THE BENCH 37 Judge Bradshaw had become a de- serter by rolling his two freight wag- ons on the ferry with the spring wag- on, driven by Rachel, in the middle. , “The fool!’ Windy said aloud. “The man is loco.” That crazy ferry might carry one wagon and six yoke of oxen, and per- haps the horse wagon into the bar- gain. Or if the river had been low, the present load would have ridden. But now... That ferryman was so intent on snatching gold that he’d do anything for a bribe. As Windy watched, the dark shape with its great freight moved through the dark across the dirty water. Windy didn’t give a hang about the Judge. Let him learn big rivers the hard way. But Rachel! He ran down to the river bank and untied one of the ca- noes. He took off after the ferry boat. On this side the water was easy enough. Not until past midstream did the outfit hit the really fast and treacherous current. Windy was close behind. The two wagon drivers, with the ferryman, were struggling with the unfamiliar oars. The Judge hung to the sweep. Windy could dimly see Kaciel, sit- ting in the wagon seat. That blamed ferryman, with palm itching for gold, and that fool politician, itching for power! Well, now they had a mad river to rassle with. The river didn’t waste any time with fancy hoids. It took one snatch and had the raft and cargo eddying. The second hold and it list- ed. The wagon on the far side rolled into the river, the bulls making a tangled blur as they struggled to get loose and to swim. The men cursed. Rachel screamed. Her team lunged and into the river she went. The boat lost all balance and the other freight wagon rolled into the current. The ferryboat swam off into the darkness. If Windy hadn’t known rivers and canoes he would have gone down with the rest. He shot his boat straight for the struggling team. He got hold of the girl just as the outfit went under. He hauled her aboard, doing mightily to stay adrift himself. She was half drowned. EORMICLOOOKS (C@