2 Gun Western, May 1957 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

THANKS TO THE PARTY LINE 13 his feet were sore, when at last he found one pig backed up against a willow stump and flashed the light in its eyes, blinding and confusing it so he could grab its hind leg, f ia GRUNTS of the captured pig attracted his companion, and Blanche was able to catch it. “At last we have them both,” she panted. “Now we must fix their pen.” “T never did learn to build pig pens in the dark,” said Lance firmly, and solved the problem by putting the Pigs into the crate in which they had come. He was stepping foward his horse when Blanche said, “Oh! That pump! There’s no water.” “To hell—to heck with the pump. I’m plenty wet as it is.” “Don’t be cross, Lance. After you give us a little pointers, we'll make out all right,” “Sorry,” he apologized stiffly. When the two entered the kitchen, Aunt Kate complained, “I couldn’t find any wood to use to keep the fire going, Mr. Condon... Has Blanche told you this ranching venture is her idea? I came along because it isn’t safe for her to be all alone.” “But what’s the big idea?” Lance demanded. He reached behind the kitchen door and brought out a lantern, like the lamp, was empty. It too he filled with kerosene while Blanche cleaned the chimney. “The big idea?” she echoed. “I’m planning to raise cows and learn to ride like a cowgirl.” : “Ever been on a horse?” Lance asked ironically. “Come out to the woodpile and hold this lantern while I hack an armload of wood,” he ordered. “But you'll teach me to ride Lance?”—Eyes and voice appealing. Lance made no reply. He picked up the dull axe and swung it savagely. “Am I being worked!” | The fire was going again, and Aunt Kate busying herself over the stove, when Lance brought two pails of water from the creek, and used the contents of one to prime the pump. Abruptly the telephone voiced three short peals and a long one. “That’s your ring,” Lance said to Blanche, who was watching him. The telephone was in the living- room, but the connecting door was open, and Lance heard, “Yes, Mrs, Gordon, I’m Blanche Newton... Yes, I have bought this ranch. I intend to make it my home... Only myself and my aunt... How exciting! I'll get to meet all my neighbors... Thank you, Mrs. Gordon. Goodbye.” Blanche returned to the kitchen. “News travels fast. Mrs. Gordon had heard about us, Aunt Kate, and wanted to welcome us...There are the oddest sounds on that wire!” “Never forget this is a party line,” Lance commented. He had been rum- maging the pantry, and had found several items of food, including bacon, which he was slicing for the women’s breakfast. ““A party line’? Blanche laughed. “Fun! A party line’s the most. aggravating dam— Excuse me, please.” Blanche crinkled her nose _ sauci- ly. With a challenge in them, her eyes met his. “We’ve been invited to a ranch dance next Saturday. I’m wondering if you’re going.” He was off balance for an instant before he caught himself. “Not me. Pil be riding the calf roundup for Circle Three.” He steeped toward the door. “I thought you were a ranchman,”’ Blanche said, “Part time only. I took up a home- stead and lived on it no more than the law required to make final proof. _ The rest of the time I’ve punched cows for Circle Three... Glad to have met you ladies. Good night.” What fun,” OME AT eleven, he felt it was too late to phone Alec Pot- ter of Circle Three and ask for his old job, without explaining that the proximity of an unusual young wom- an was too disturbing to permit his staying at home. Far too disturbing. A fellow couldn’t sleep even when he was tuckered out. He had dozed off when, at five o'clock, the phone awakened him. “Hal—lo-o, Lance spe—akin’,” sleep- ily. Oh, Lance.” It was Blanche, and Lance silently “Oofed t Sotey £9...