2 Gun Western, May 1957 — page 54: what you’re looking at

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

54 2-GUN WESTERN Wyoming Frank tried out his stuff By reaching for his gun, But Tom Smith’s fists were quick enough To lay him out to sun! Oh, Abilene was rough and raw, But not too raw to cheer A man whose bare fists could make law, Because he knew no fear! For many a month Tom kept the peace then ; In that once bloody town, Till one who hated all lawmen Waylaid and shot him down. The grass grows green in Abilene Upon a hero’s grave— His mem’ry green in Abilene Because his heart was brave! Author’s note: The inscription on a bronze tablet over Tom Smith’s grave at Abilene, Kansas, reads: THOMAS J. SMITH Marshal of Abilene, 1870. Died a Martyr to Duty, Nov. 2, 1870. A Fearless Hero of Frontier Days, Who, 1n Cowboy Chaos, Established the Supremacy of Law. x »* Fe x x SAFE CONDUCT S gies MINUTES of this, minutes that seemed like hours, and it ‘was over. Dazed, exhausted, and _ half drowned from the water they’d swal- lowed, the two dragged themselves out of the whirlpool and dropped gratefully upon the solid bank, Wil- liams breathing like a grampus, Bax- ter only a little less so. “Well,” the sheriff remarked after a long interval, “we walked away from that one.” His prisoner nodded. Like Baxter, he was staring at the whirlpool, but the terror which had marked his face before seemed to have vanished. In its place was an expression of tri- umph, almost of cockiness. And when he spoke it was not with any of his former antagonism, but with the same air of familiarity the sheriff had dis- played. . “Yeah,” he said. “That'll sure be somethin’ to talk about, won’t it, [ll bet Slim an’ Chuck never went through anything like that. Always braggin’ about what they done, but they never went through anything like that.” (Cont'd from page 32) Baxter eyed him curiously. “I guess you're right, Williams. My- self, I wouldn’t care to go through it . again, either.” Williams shrugged. “Well, you won’t have to. You’ve bypassed Slim an’ Chuck an’ there’s nobody else blockin’ your way to Hassayampa. Say, how far is it from here to town, anyway?” “Oh, about twelve or fifteen miles, I reckon.” y, Toad Williams glanced up at the sun. “Must be close to two o’clock,” he said, “an’ that’s a four or five- hour hike. Maybe we better be start- in’ if we want to get there before dark.” Baxter turned away to hide a smile. “Maybe we had,” he agreed, as he arose. He realized that he was with- out his gun now, and reached me- chanically into his pocket for the handcuffs. But a second glance at his prisoner brought his hand away. Something in the other’s prideful, child-like face told him he wouldn't need them. Comic pol REND.