2-Gun Western, November 1955 — page 59: what you’re looking at

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

A TINHORN © NEWTON | @\ DB OM KELSEY had been so sure of winning that his eager fin- | gers were already dragging in the pot before Lew Hatton had a chance to spread his own cards upon the green-covered table. When he saw the hand that beat his own, however, the rancher stopped. He studied the cards with worried blue eyes. And then, slowly, he pushed the chips back into the center of the table and said, “Guess I was a little sud- den.” He even tried to smile a little, but the result was some- thing that looked very sick. Lew Hatton didn’t smile. He never permitted himself that luxury, When he was LEAD draw to.... BS lean fingers. The Rafter K ue” "5 a t ¢ ue te * 7 Lew Hatton had seen men bullet-blasted crumple to the dust before his six- guns, but this was one blood-hungry gent he'd have liked tto lose the CHOOSES thodically in his Saf | Kelsey was an easy mark for the gambler. owner was fidgeting a bit, uncertain- working, his sallow face with its ly, a frown on his homely, red-burnt clipped mustache and closely-lidded face as he eyed Hatton. He opened eyes never changed expression. He his mouth hesitantly, said, “I’m—I’m went to work now stacking the chips afraid I'll have to ask you to let me sai ie ce ee he had won for the sign some more paper, Hatton. I put i 3 WESTERN tc) : ing the cards me- pot—’ : * * CLASSIC $ copyright 1941, 59 oO COMNMUC NOO ? TIME E) HONORED = t, cuse, and gather-» a little more than I had into that S The gambler looked at him sharply. Leoveecsecveseeceeeeees Manvis Pub, Ina. Without a word he put down the CO