2-Gun Western, November 1955 — page 90: what you’re looking at

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

HARDCASE OR COWARD USS KILRAIN cursed sudden- R ly, with angry surprise, and his upraised hand halted the five hardfaced riders behind him. “What the hell!” Kilrain growled. “Somebody’s took up in that old shack down there. That’s bad luck, for who- ever it is. It means another killin’!” The smoky, reckless eyes of Kent by GUNNISON STEELE i nny \ ry hs maa a ‘ e" ee ee cabin was a fenced garden, green with young vegetables. A few scrawny cows grazed nearby. Kent Varing’s eyes shifted and probed thoughtfully the length of the narrow valley along which they had been riding. It began with the hills that rimmed the northern end of San Simon Basin, and traversed the basin’s copyright 1939, Manvis Pub, Inc renee dr Dee ROT O09 Foo? © HONORED : WESTERN ©: Then both their guns were blasting down into ‘the gorge. yy) ‘at mm o& & CLASSIC $99490004968049034% YON Aas bes —_— — ——- 7 ws ‘ky é a ie « Ne So : ty rcube \ etd a: ry The years had hardened Kent Varing, turned him into a bitter, cold-eyed man whose law lay in his lightning- fast guns. No mere slip of a girl could turn him back from the dark trails now.... Varing, riding next to Kilrain, fol- lowed the gaze of the outlaw leader. Smoke was curling lazily frorn the mud chimney of the cabin that hud- dled amid gaunt cottonwoods at the foot of a decline three hundred yards away. The place looked desperately poor, but neat. At the back of the entire length; its southern outlet was a thin cleft in the hills that was a gateway into Mexico. In spots, it was really a canyon. One of these spots was just beyond the cabin, where the granite walls drew in till they almost touched. “That won’t do,’ Russ Kilrain was 91 ecomieboo CO