2-Gun Western, February 1954 — page 73: what you’re looking at

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

THE SHERIFF TRIES TWIN SIXES bends the steer’s neck in record time at the rodeo. Secretly, he yearns to marry the beautiful woman. He is the Don Juan at heart.” HORTY DIXON was staring open-mouthed. “By gosh,” he stammered, “thass me. Me to a ‘T”! Ma’am, you ain’t no spirit or some- thin’, are yuh?” He shoved a five-dollar the table. The boys forced Burlap Bates over. “Aw, shucks, fellers,” the big fellow gulped. “I—I gotta go. Got some chores to do in town afore we dust back, I—” cee “Set!” thundered Curly Blair, in ‘mock anger. He and the rest made the embarrassed puncher plop into the chair before the ball. Burlap’s hand shook so he dropped his money in the Princess’ lap. Princess Zaza’s slim legs came together, preventing the bills from falling to the floor. “Ah!” the fortune-teller breathed, “the ’andsome cowman! He is of the ‘strong, silent type. He—the crystal is a little clouded—I think he wishes to become an arm of the law. His friends, they tell him he is too slow, trustful. He spends a lot of his time doing card tricks. But he is intelli- gent, clever. He will go far.” . “Hallelujah!” cried Cactus Hardin. “Will yuh look at Burlap’s pan! He’s got it bad.” So it seemed. As the bunch of them went downstairs to the ba’, Burlap acted as if in a dream. Had a far- away look in his eyes, as if he’d sud- denly come across an angel. The Crescent Bar men had never known Burlap like that. He usually ducked when he saw a woman coming. “Princess Zaza,” Burlap murmured, gazing beyond him. “That's a pretty name.” The boys kept ribbing him as they trotted back up the dusty street, pass- ing Keplar’s Hardware Emporium on the way. From the store porch, a short, slight man in a tipped back chair waved. “Hi-yuh, boys,” he called pleasant- ly. “How yuh doin’?” “Hi, Aces,’ greeted Ted Trow- bridge. All the fellows liked Aces Raine. The little man had come into bill across 73 Piute a short time ago, from the north some place. He had a genial, likeable manner that made you feel you'd known him all your life. “We just now come from the Princess’. Had our fortunes told. You oughta try her. She'll open your eyes, pard, an’ I don’t mean mebbe.” “Shucks,” Aces Raine grinned, “I don’t believe in no stuff like that. - Can’t tell me anybody can read the past er future when they don’t know yuh.” 2 “That’s because you ain’t met her,” retorted Trowbridge. “Look at Bur- lap here. He ain’t been the same since.” They spurred on up the street. At the far end Burlap Bates reined in. “Wanna see the sheriff a second,” he explained. “Catch yuh later.” Sheriff Bill Stowe was chewing on a cigar stub over by the window as Burlap entered. He was a big man, with most of his size concentrated on his stomach. He had a red hair fringe which matched his bushy mus- tache. He glared over at Bates. “What in hell you want!” he thun- dered. “As if I ain’t got enough trou- ble already. I suppose you're still after that deputy job. Well, it’s not open to anyone, see. What I want is a gent with go-to-it in his system. A gent who can see through things, and do somethin’ about it.” URLAP swallowed. “You still havin’ trouble with them holdups, Bill?” “Hell!” roared the lawman. “Ain’t I jest now said it? Gents are bein’ relieved of their pay plumb in the streets. Three of ‘em last week, two already this one. I been run ragged tryin’ to put a stop to ’em. Old Hep- worth, th’ mayor, he’s been raisin’ cain. It’s Stowe do this, Stowe do that. If he hadda sweat half his weight off runnin’ down clues like I have, he’d— Say! Why in tunket am I wastin’ time telling you all this!” “I dunno,” said Burlap, meekly. “Look, sheriff, about that deputy job. If you'd just give me a chance—” The lawman purpled. “Get out,’ he said in a low tense ECORNICLOOOKS (C@)