2-Gun Western, November 1955 — page 36: what you’re looking at

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

36 2-GUN WESTERN “IT. wouldn’t take $300 for that horse,’ John Duncan declared. “A good mount’s scarce in these parts and there’s none I’ve seen as good as this one.” Caleb looked at Joe Salem. “If you've got any defense, Joe, we bet- ter hear it.” “T’ve been associating with polecats so long I got lonesome for a horse,” Joe fired back. “Maybe you were drunk,” Caleb. “I was sober,” Joe said. “Maybe you got claim-happy, Joe,” Caleb persisted. “Sort of lost your head for a minute.” “Most sensible thing I’ve done since I got to this hell-hole gold country,” Joe Salem retorted, “I’d have rid that horse straight to Santa Fe and points east.” “He’s a confessed horse thief,” John Duncan said high and angry. “Seems like time for a hangin’,” the elder Wherry brother said. Caleb said, “There being no defense, Joe Salem is found guilty of attempt- ing to steal the horse of John Duncan. Now there’s the question of the penalty.” “He’s guilty, he hangs,” said John. Caleb turned on him and stared coldly. “As elected presiding officer of this meeting, I intend to do the fair thing according to common sense,” he said. “You afraid to hang a horse thief,” John Duncan said. “Joe did a fool thing,’ Caleb said, “which I don’t think he’ll repeat. And you've still got your horse, John.” ‘“Ain’t you going to hang him?” Caleb felt a wave of distaste rise in him for John Duncan; a man wronged but claiming compensation to the hilt —compensation of another man’s life. He pronounced judgment. “Joe Salem gets 40 lashes on his back for tem- porarily losing his head and trying to ride off on another man’s horse.” “T’ll be shot!” John Duncan yelled. “Of all the cowardly...” “While the Wherry brothers turn Joe around at his tree there and de- liver the sentence,” Caleb cut in, “I’m straight-away going to lick John Dun- can for calling me a coward. The court’s adjourned.” said oe MORNING was grey and cold as Caleb walked north. If there was a stiffer man in the Mother Lode, he was not sober to suffer as Caleb did. His legs and arms ached sorely and his head seemed split and held together only by the bandage bound tightly over his brow. One eye was purple, puffed and closed and his lower lip felt like some frog sat there. His nose was broken fearsomely and he groaned as the chill air buffed it. When the first ray of sun topped a craggy peak, Caleb stopped beside a stream to bathe his face. He sat awhile to rest and cast a suspicious eye on his companion. Joe Salem knelt down like a very old man to cup his hands and drink at the stream. When he stood up, Caleb could see the pain in the deeply drawn lines around his mouth. Caleb could imagine the striated back shorn of flesh and stiffening in the cold. Joe was like some thick trunk of tree bit- ten cruelly by the axe. “You should have stole a horse stead of tanglin’ with John Duncan,” Joe said to Caleb. “They beat my hide off, but I still got my beautiful face.” ‘ Caleb grunted. “John’s in poor shape this morning, too,” he said. Joe Salem nodded. “You was doing fine till the two of you went 20 feet down that coyote shaft.” Caleb winced at the recollection of that plunge; the rock sides of the shaft burning his hide raw and the slag-heap landing that came near to unhinge-ing him. “You’ve busted me up for fair, Joe,” Caleb said accusingly. “I was a respected man in the community till you stole a horse and I got mad at John Duncan and refused to hang ou.” 3 “You’d have been elected alcalde in time,” Joe acknowledged. “Got a fair, sensible streak in you or I’d be dan- glin’ from a tree this minute.” Caleb shook his head, and then hung onto it a moment with both hands to stop the throbbing. “They don’t want an alcalde that won’t hang a horse thief. That’s why I was told to git when they dragged me from that hole.” “Thing is, I ain’t a real horse thief,” Oo Comiclsooks.c@