2 Gun Western, May 1957 — page 81: what you’re looking at

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

LAST OF THE LOBOS 81 backed chair, a straight-backed man, upright and prim, white haired in his sixties. “I thought we might have a little something in common we might talk over, now you're back, Will.” “I figured maybe you’d be too damned respectable to talk to a two- bit gunny, Durant.” Anger was there beneath the lightness of Will’s tone. “Not two-bit, Will. I still have a leaden bullet in my hide that I value at considerably more than two-bits.” Will’s eyes worked on the man’s features as he crossed the expensive- ly furnished room, but he knew he’d learn nothing untilyDurant was ready to talk. And again he asked him- self why he was here, but the mem- ory of Linda and Jack Griffith, the Suspicion of the man who had been his friend was there, gnawing at the confidence he’d once had in them both, — “Let’s get down to cases, Lou,” he said then. “There’s more going on around here than meets the eye and I’ve got a notion some of it stinks = than your methods always did!” Durant raised an eyebrow as he let himself into a large chair beside glass- panelled bookshelves. “Judge Max- well said I was being foolish to talk to you in the first place, Will. Don’t make me agree with him.” “Listen, Durant! I don’t give a hang who you agree with, understand? I put one bullet through that rotten hide of yours once before and it’d pleasure me plumb well to put an- other one a little closer to taw, if I ever got half an excuse, savvy? You had my old man shot, if you didn’t do it yourself, and there’s no crawl- ing pussyfooting ways or ‘new civili- zation’ that can erase it!” “The law doesn’t quite agree with you, Will.” The man’s smile was still there. Judge Maxwell cleared his throat abruptly, his eyes cold glints in the hollowness of his features. “See here, young man. Mr. Durant stood trial for various things nearly two years ago, He was acquitted. Now, there'll be no more talk about killing. And an- other thing: you yourself have a quite unsavory reputation here in Junction City and if you are ever hailed before Not at a time like this, with Maxwell ms | the bar in my court, I promise you things will not go easy. Now, this matter of the note, Mr. Durant.” In spite of himself, Will’s eyes widened upon the old man’s features. He had quite a reputation! But, my Gosh, it was Durant... He had to jam control against the exasperation of his feelings, knowing he could do himself no good until he at least knew the lay of the land. It may just be, he had to warn himself viciously, that he could find out more from Durant than even Jack Griffith could tell him. “Yes, the note.” Lou Durant was a cat, preening. “It was a pretty clever move to sign the Bar Bench over to Griffith at the time, Will. It stopped me cold, as far as things went, then.” “That note’s not worth the paper it’s written on, Durant! You know that.” : “Yes, I thought you’d take that at- titude. You see, that’s why I’ve asked Judge Maxwell to be here this morn- ing. I just wanted to get this little thing straight in your mind, Will. In case ‘you get any ideas, you know. You'll know just how far you can jump, legally.” “Which is not very far, young man.” Maxwell’s eyes bored. “Mr. Du- rant has already filed suit and the case is pending. The matter can be brought before me at any time and upon the face of the evidence already to be seen, I would immediately grant Mr. Durant judgment against you, payable in any worldly goods you, might possess, to the full amount of said note!” “Twenty thousand dollars, Will!” Durant smiled, “You don’t happen to have the amount on you, do you?” It was in Will to flame out, to throw the words back in their faces. It was his father’s signature on the note. He knew that. But he knew too that the signature had been obtained at the point of a gun—and worse. He remembered again the raised blisters on the soles of his father’s feet when he’d found the body in the line shanty on the upper San Juanitos, But what was the use? Nothing would be gained by his flying off the handle. Comichbooksscom