2-Gun Western, November 1955 — page 74: what you’re looking at

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

74 Time crawled. Rod Donnelly sprawled by his window, thinking back. Remembering how his partner- ship with Alec Brendle had begun. Suddenly, he rolled over, shoved the cabin door wide open. A lead slug sliced slivers from the door jamb. He looked at hook-nosed Galt. “We’ll be going now,” he said. “Going!” echoed Galt. He stared at Donnelly. “You aiming to crow- hop to town Donnelly?” : “I got a better way,” said Donnelly curtly. He reached for a strip of the torn blanket on the floor. “I’ll have to blindfold you.” : “Blindfold me?” said Galt. For the first time a trace of uneasines was in the tone of the hooked-nosed man. “What you figgering to do?” Donnelly’s face was a bleak mask. “It will be revealed,” he said, “Hold still or I'll cave your head in.” Tightly he fixed the blindfold around the bound man’s eyes. And suddenly all of Dave Galt’s harsh as- surance was gone, There was the be- ginning of panic in Galt’s voice. “You aiming to use me for a shield, Donnelly?” Donnelly cut the ropes binding his legs. “Stand up,” he said. “It’s cold out—you'll’ want a coat.” “What you planning, Donnelly?” “Listen, Galt. I’m going to untie your hands now. Just long enough for you to crawl into your coat. I'll have a gun in your back all the time.” He prodded Galt with the six-gun to let him know that it was there. Then, body braced against the wall, he held the coat while the blindfolded man slid his arms reluctantly through the sleeves. He slapped a Stetson on Galt’s head. “Your hat’s outside. You'll have to wear one of mine.” Galt spoke earnestly. “Pete Du- chelle and Clint Abad are out there, Donnelly. Both of them jaspers know how to shoot. I don’t know what you're planning—” Curtly Donnelly cut him short. “Shut up. I thought you was a tough hand, Galt. Better save your wind— You'll need it. Tl get my He saw the tight line of Dave Galt’s lips. He knew ‘now that there was a hat,” said Donnelly. chink in Galt’s armor, 2-GUN WESTERN E. TURNED, awkward on the one good leg. And in that instant, swiftly, Dave Galt made his play. Dave Galt, whose eyes were blind- folded now but whose hands were free, lifted a hand in lightning move- ment and jerked the blindfold from his eyes. For a fraction of a second the big man stood balanced on his toes. Rod Donnelly was in the act of reaching for a hat hanging from a wooden peg in the wall. In a flash the hook-nosed killer saw his opportunity; just as swiftly he grasped it. His hands were free now; so were his feet. The blindfold was torn from his eyes. Weaponless, he lashed out savagely at Donnelly’s jaw with his fist. He missed the jaw; the blow struck Donnelly’s shoulder; but it knocked the one-legged man off balance and sent him spinning to the floor. He landed on his hips, gun lifting. Too late. Dave Galt was al- ready at the door. Donnelly threw a shot at him, but Galt was through the door. Galt was outside, running— with desperate speed to beat a bullet at his back. And then, as suddenly as it had started, it was over. Dave Galt, head down, was racing toward the black- smith shop. His whole concern was to escape a bullet from Donnelly’s gun and so he was quite unprepared for what occurred—for the crashing roar of guns from the blacksmith shop, or for the bullets that met him before he had covered half a dozen yards. They struck the hook-nosed killer, one bul- let and another; they stopped his head-long rush and propped him up- right for a moment, and then Galt’s knees caved under him. 3 Rod Donnelly had crawled to the window. From the window he watched the blacksmith shop. He saw the door of the shop swing open, saw two men step outside. A tall man and a short one, they trudged across the snow- covered ground toward the cabin. Each man carried a rifle. The tall man Said something to the short man. Both laughed. They came on. They had almost reached that twisted figure in the snow when Donnelly rolled over into the doorway. Donnelly edged the thirty-thirty through the door. “Get ’em up! he rasped. And both men stopped. Pete Du- oO Conn) S ehoo CO