2 Gun Western, May 1957 — page 59: what you’re looking at

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

A LITTLE CLOUD OF DUST 59 “Might be,” I said, cautious—like. “Well then, Ill just get on the stage and go along with you and have a talk with him.” The story sounded reasonable and I figured it was all right. On the haul back to Deadwood, the short man didn’t say much more about it, even at the stops where we stayed overnight. He was friendly and didn’t ask any more questions. We pulled into Deadwood and he got a room at the tavern and we had sup- per. Afterwards he said, “Now my friend, if you will/ just show me where my brother-in-law lives I’ll be much obliged.” Told him I was figuring on going out there the next day, but he said he didn’t have much time and wanted to see his relative tonight. Told him it was about two miles out and we would get some horses at Smitty’s. He said he wasn’t much of a horse- man and would prefer a buggy; so we got the carry-all and started out. We found Addie alone, but she was real glad to see me and a rela- tive of Andy’s. Said Andy had been gone for over a week and should have been back before this. They were go- ing East to live as soon as Andy took care of business about his mine. Just then we heard a horse coming into the yard and she said that must be him now. Andy came busting in and stopped dead short when he saw us. Addie started to say something about his greeting his relative but stopped— without finishing. William Brown stood there with a cold look in his gray eyes, hands in his side pockets. Presently he spoke, and his voice was like his eyes. ™~ “James Bartlow, don’t move! I’ve got a gun leveled on you. I am a United States Detective and I’m ar- resting you for bank robbery and murder. Step forward with your hands out and close together.” A strange look came into Andy’s eyes, like a wild animal with wolves all around him, closing in for the kill. He grabbed his gun, and I think both men fired at the same time. Only dif- ference was, the lawman missed his target but Andy didn’t, This detec- tive fellow sunk to the floor. His left hand came out of his pocket and some handcuffs rattled on the boards. Andy stood there looking at him for a minute then he turned to me, “This is for you, Hank, for double- crossin’ a friend.” His gun lowered toward my feet. I realized he didn’t intend to kill me. I never carried a gun. His bullet smashed my knee. Andy turned to his wife and said, “Adeline, I’ve got to go now, but I’ll be back.” We. HEARD his horse going down down the road—poundin’ fast. Addie didn’t say a word, but she was awful white. My leg buckled under the weight of me and I could feel the hard leather of my boot getting sog- gy from blood. Somehow, Addie got me in the carry-all and drove me to her pa’s tavern. She never went back. | Old Doc Peters looked at that bus- ted knee and shook his head, but he fixed it up with bandages. Two days later he told me the leg would have to come off because blood-poison had set in. Well, they laid me on a table in a back room, put me to sleep and it was done. Addie took care of me everyday, but it was a long time be- fore I could get out of bed and make myself a crutch. Got used to it in time and was able to help Pop a lit- tle around the tavern. It was maybe six months before Andy came back—but he did—riding down the street on a fine-looking black horse, and him in a soldier uni- form with brass buttons and shiny boots and a gun holstered on his belt. He tied up and came in and looked tired. When he saw me he was kind of shocked and asked, “How did that happen, Hank?’ : “IT guess you know,” I told him. Pop started to steam up. I could see the muscles in his jaw swell like whipcord, “Get outten my place or I’ll throw you out,” he yelled. But I held him back, saying, “Go easy; Pop, he’s a U. S. soldier sure enough, It would only bring on trou- ble. We don’t want no more of it.” SCO He calmed down somew fiat. (COMMUNE LOO)