2 Gun Western, May 1957 — page 53: what you’re looking at

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

GUN-LESS MARSHAL by S. OMAR BARKER A BALLAD OF OLD ABILENE Those times were raw in Abilene, The Texas trail hands rough! To keep the peace in Abilene, Town marshals found it tough! Some tried it with six-guns aflame, Some died quiet in their boots, Till one there came whose fearless fame | Time’s verdict still salutes, Tom Smith was fair of skin and hair, His height was six feet one; Of fists he wore a brawny pair, But at his hip no gun. The marshal’s job was open wide. Tom said he’d take it on. “Without no gun,” the mayor sighed, “You won't last through till dawn! But hell, we’ve got no marshal here, So take the dadblamed star! I reckon I have made it clear How tough these rannies are!” 53 Tom pinned the badge on with a grin, A friendly man and quiet. “This here’s a game I may not win,” He said, “but let me try it, First thing, we'll pass the word aroun’: Let cowpokes have their fun, But while they’re paintin’ up the town, ” ! They mustn’t wear no gun A cowhand fresh in off the trail Met Tom Smith on the street— A curly wolf with a knotty tail, Whose draw was hard to beat. ’ “I'll check your gun,” the marshal said. | “I guess you know the rule.” “You will like hell! Folks turn up dead Who take me for a fool!” A mule kicked Tex between the eyes— Tom’s fist struck swift and sure. The gunman fell and could not rise— Tom Smith’s first “knuckle cure.” (continued on next page) Ccomicooolks com