2 Gun Western, May 1957 — page 31: what you’re looking at

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

SAFE CONDUCT 31 only was . Williams dragging both of _them down but the whirlpool was sucking them towards its center, where the undercurrent would seize them and carry them to their death. It was instinct that told Baxter this, for he had no time to reason. And it was instinct that caused him to bring his knee up with all the force he could muster into Toad Williaras’ rotund abdomen. feels GRIP about his body re- laxed, he felt his prisoner’s body go limp. Instantly he reached down, unbuckled his gun-belt and let it drop to the bottom. That brought his head above the surface again. Pulling his unconscious prisoner up with one hand, he worked with both feet and the other hand to fight the suction of the whirlpool. It was useless. Inexorably he found himself being drawn down to its cen- ter. But directly in that center, its buoyancy bucking the pull of the undercurrent, was the overturned skiff and the pair of oars. Hungrily Baxter eyed them, eased his body toward them, And then chilled with a new ter- ror. For the closer he got the more powerful became the pull of the un- dercurrent. Nearing the side of the skiff, he was almost afraid to cease paddling and reach for it, lest the current suck him down. But he took that chance, essayed a wild clutch at a jagged breach in the boat’s side— and made it. Temporarily at least, he was safe. Though the boat lost some of its buoyancy, it still remained above the surface. Then trouble beset him from another source, though he was more relieved by it than otherwise. Toad Williams was regaining conscious- ness. He gave a strangled gasp, opened his eyes, then started claw- ing frantically at the sheriffs body again. “Hold it,’ Baxter told him sharp- ly, ‘or you’ll drown the both of us. Can’t you see the spot we’re in?” . Evidently Williams could, but it didn’t serve to quiet him. “We'll drown anyway,” he wailed hysterical- ly. “We can’t hang on like this for- ever. An’ we can’t get out o’ this whirlpool, either. An’ it’s all your damned fault. Norden told you you couldn’t make it this way. But you wouldn’t listen. All you was thinkin’ about was your own skin. You didn’t care what happened to me. A heck of a sheriff you turned out to be.” Accusation again. Even in the gravity of that moment Jim Baxter felt the sting of it, couldn’t deny that it was justified. All that Williams said was true. He’d chosen this route primarily for his own pvrotec- tion, taking a gambler’s cliaace on Winning through, only ta find him, self in a predicament that promised certain death to hoth. For there seemed no way of escape from this miniature maelstroin and eventually that terrific suction would break up the boat and drag them under. Despairingly, his glance swept the bank—only fifteen feet away, but it might as well have been fifteen hun- dred. Narrow, dropping precipitous- ly at the edge of the whirlpool, the bank was lined with boulders of va- rious sizes which wind and weather had torn from the wall above. If only he had some way of reaching out to those boulders, had some anchor by which he might— A ray of hope brightened his gloom, He remembered that when he first took possession of the skiff up at Jake Norden’s ferry it had been tied to just such a boulder. And the rope by which it had been tied was at least twenty feet long, There was no reason why this rope shouldn’t still be hanging from the bow of the skiff, and a twenty-foot line was all he needed. A reactionary weakness swept over him again. But he knew it was the fear of possible disappointment, and resolutely, he fought it off. He must conserve his strength, must act quickly if he were to act at all. Baxter turned upon his prisoner sharply. “Listen to me, Williams. I think I’ve got a plan to get us out o this. Whether it’ll work or not I don’t know, but I’m sure going to try it. And you’ve got to help. Think you can drag yourself up on top o’ the skiff?” The hint of hope in the sheriff's eyes was sincere. Panic-stricken