2-Gun Western, November 1955 — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

AS FAST AS THEY CAME 19 lumpy old woman ambushed under a slat bonnet—and what really caught Long Sam’s roving eye, a girl— By gums, a gal! He couldn’t see much of her, though, she was so disguised in lye- faded homespun the general color of the dusty Western soil. What curves she might reasonably have had by virtue of her youth were hopelessly snrouded in loose calico. And her young face was barricaded by the slats of a bonnet twin-cousin to her ma’s. She did have a pair of bright brown eyes, whose curiosity not even the past weary miles subdued; and with these she peered down at Long Sam, while he peered up trying to find what he had here in all this shrubbery of old clothes. The head man of this outfit was travel-stained and tobacco juice ran down the edges of his mouth and dis- colored his scraggly beard. “You been a long enough time get- ting acrost,” this unmellow creature growled. “Yap,’ said Pappy, “I had all the rest of my life.” ~“T been in a bigger rush than that,” the man stated. Pappy shrugged. “Some as is in a rush and some as ain’t. I ain’t. Now me’n the boy air hyar, we'll sot you acrost. The usual price is a dollar in gold. But seeing as you air so bad-tem- pered about hit, the price air two dollars.” “You are a damn-robber,” said the man. “TI can tell by your talk you air a. Damyank, and that’s the same thing.” While this colloquy took place, Pappy leaned on his sharpshooter’s rifle, placid and immovable. “Before I'll be held up I'll stay on this side!” “Shore!” Pappy said. He waved. “Lots of territory on this side. Red- skins, too.” “By Judas I'll swim the river!” “Shore. Ain’t nobody stopping you. Only they is some sucks out yan, and treacherous waters, and instead of get- ting to the fur side you mout just drift down to hades, which is full of the likes of ye. A mess of ’em I sont thar myself with this hyar.” He patted the gun, fae EMIGRANT glowered, his thin blue eyes smouldering with a soldier’s well-remembered wrath. “IT reckon I sent some of your brethern to the same place—at Shiloh, at Chattanooga, and a few other spots.” “Shiloh? Chattanoogy? I war thar, neighbor. At Chattanoogy I sot on a rocky crag and tuck aim with this hyar,” and he again patted his rifle, “and shot down at a row of Dam- yanks and know what? It was like shootin’ a roost of scrooch-owels off a dead limb!” | “Pa,” the girl pleaded in a low but huskily musical voice, “pay the man the price and let’s be set across.” The old woman put in her mouth. “You fit the wars enough times now. Latch your jaw and let’s go where we aim to go.’ “Shut up,” the man told his women- folks. ““Who’s skinning this skunk?” “Whoever is, it’s making a mighty stink,” the girl said. “T’ll slap ‘yur teeth down your throat,” her father stated. Long Sam grinned. “Looks like the Civil War’s fixing to bust out in the Yankee family.” ~The man glowered, but he seemed to give in. “I reckon I’ll have to pay you two dollars.” “Cross my palm with gold, mister,” Pappy held out his hand. “T reckon you don’t trust me.” “Nope. I don’t trust Yankees, Paw- nees, half-breeds, stray dogs and gam- blers.” He kept his hand extended. Reluctantly the traveler reached into his jeans, extracted a coin; Pappy bit down on it to make sure, and nod- ded for Long Sam to man the broad- horn. All the while Long Sam and the girl had been eyeing each other. Once the ferry was in motion, the Northerner inquired, “How’s lands out there?” He waved to the west. “Maybe more’n you seen back whur you come from,” Pappy said. “How’s the redskins? “You ort to stayed with your wagon train. Now you may lose your hair.” Pappy jerked his head toward the womenfolks. “Some brave will keep your gal, and they'll shore take the hair of that old woman of yourn.” “I guess I can take care of my own,” ComilelookSs.co