2 Gun Western, May 1957 — page 75: what you’re looking at

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

SEVEN RODE OUT 75 reply. Alec crawled back to his post and found Orfano in a sitting posi- tion, his back to a boulder. The In- dian’s face was as blank as a rock. “No good in this,” Alec said, with sudden anger. “Why’d you start it?” Orfano was slow in answering. “Some of the young men drank too much tiswin. They talked of the old days.... Of Geronimo and Victorio and old Nana. Drink made their hearts bold and put fire into their minds.” The Indian’s voice grew gut- tural, but his words were clear—with a poetry woven thréugh them. “But you knew it was foolish, Or- fano,” Alec said. “You know there are too many soldiers.” “I knew,” Orfano replied. “When they were gone, I got my pony and followed. I told them it was crazy, but they wouldn’t listen. What could I do but ride with them? They stole horses from the ranches, true. But I kept them from raiding and killing. We fought a posse that tried to stop us, and tonight we fight because the soldiers fired first. The tiswin is gone from their bellies now, and they know it was a mistake. But they’re afraid to give up.” “Afraid? Apaches afraid, Orfano?” “Of being sent to Florida, like Ger- onimo and the others.” “But the longer they stay out, the more soldiers they kill,” Alec mut- tered, “the worse it’ll be for them. Maybe some will be hanged.” Orfano’s voice lost its poetry, took on the harshness of anger. “I know all that, soldier,” he said. “Another day—in two days, maybe—I could have led them back. But there are forty of them, full of the fear of prison, and now they'll have to be beaten. Many if them will die, along with many soldiers.” “If you had the chance, you could take them in?” “I’m a prisoner, soldier.” “If I freed you, would you give me your word?” Orfano’s eyes seemed to glow.“ “You’d take an Apache’s word?” Alec said, “Yours, Orfano,” then heard Lieutenant Macklin call softly, “Ready, Small....Schultz, fetch the horses.” The officer was silent a mo- ment, Then: “Get rid of the prisoner, | Small. we can’t. take him with us.” Schultz grunted, “Ya; kill him. Pll finish him off.” He came forward, crouching low, and Alec saw the brute look on his face—and the saber in his hand. “Damn you!” Alec flung at him. “Your orders are to get the horses. He’s my prisoner, and Pll take care of him!” Schultz cursed him but turned away, going deeper into the rocks for the horses. Alec crossed to Macklin, and gasped, “Sir, Orfano says he could take the band in. If you let him live and—” “Enough of that, Small!” Macklin growled. “I know about that damn’ fool book you wrote and how you tried out a crazy policy of putting Indians on their honor, I won’t hear to any such nonsense. We can’t take the prisoner with us, and he’s too dangerous to turn loose. You'll obey orders—and do away with him!” Alec swallowed and turned away. Schultz came up with three horses. Macklin got up with an effort, his face twisted from the pain from his shattered arm. He had trouble in mounting. The sniping increased, and a ring of rifle flashes revealed that the Apaches knew a break was to be made. Alec drew his saber and lay the point to Orfano’s throat. “Your word?” “You have orders to kill me, sol- dier.” “I don’t want to kill you,” Alec said fiercely, “Give me your word that you'll try to take the band in, and I’ll turn you loose!” He knew that disobedience of or- ders was a soldier’s greatest sin, yet he was still the man who believed that Indians could be won to the ways of the white man. He heard Lieutenant Macklin yell above the roar of Apache guns, “Small, come along!” Then Orfano said, “I give you my word, soldier. But only because you are a white man who'll take an Apache’s word.” Alec grabbed him, flung him down onto his face, and used the saber to cut away his bonds. He whirled and ran to the horse Schultz was holding for him. : Wild Apache cries rang out, The CORMIC DOOK<S. COMM