2 Gun Western, May 1957 — page 82: what you’re looking at

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

82 -2-GUN WESTERN sitting there in his chair like the avenging angel of destruction. “Here.” Durant had reached into a vest pocket and come out with a fold- ed paper which he extended to Will. “Here’s the note, Will. That is your father’s signature, isn’t it?” He had the paper then, stepping back suddenly, automatically. And as apprehension showed in Durant’s face, as the man moved in his chair, Will’s gun was in his hand, center- ing the man as he backed away. “You don’t need this note, Durant,” he was saying then. “Dad built the Bar Bench and when I got big enough, I helned him. You don’t think I’d let a phony piece of paper rob me of my life, do you?” He was laughing then, inside, it had been SO easy. But, somehow, Lou Durant was laughing too, in soft, casual sounds of genuine humor. The man nodded slightly and there was the abrupt hard roundness of gun-barrel against Will’s spine, and Matt Gorman’s voice at his ear: “Gentle, boy, gentle.” Yes, it was easy, all right. Too easy. And not al! the bitterness that was in Will could dispel how easy he'd been. “You see, Judge,’ Durant said cas- ually, “just as I said it would be. ’'m sorry I had to carry this through, Will, but I wanted to make my point with Judge Maxwell, here.” The old man’s features had relaxed almost to smiling, but sternness came immediately as he stabbed the sharp- ness of his glance at Will. “Attempted robbery with a deadly weapon! This alone could mean years in prison for you, young man!” His glance went to Durant and came back. “But seeine’s Mr. Durant more or less planned things to prove his point, this incident won’t be vressed.” He paused to emphasize hic words. “Un- less I hear from Mr. Durant later! You'd better remember that, young man!” The saunt man picked up his hat then and, nodding briefly to Du- rant, moved to the door and was gone. - “My, my!” Gorman’s laugh came. “Ain’t you the bad boy, Will!” - “Shut up, Matt!” Durant’s voice was suddenly serious. “I’m sorry I had to pull that, Will, But that paper itself doesn’t mean a thing any more. It’s recorded and registered with the county recorder, so even if you got away with it, it wouldn’t make any difference. What I really wanted to do was to show you how things stand. Now it may look rough at first sight, but I’ve got an idea or two that may strike you with a little different fla- vor. I’ve got a deal, in other words, Will. How about it?” Will had control of himself, but the hatred he felt was an underlaid deepness beneath the move of his voice, “You’re a foxy man, Mister Du- rant,” he said slowly. “But I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if you fox your- self straight into a pine box before this game is through!” Durant sighed. “I was afraid you’d take it like that, this early, Will. You want to see Jack Griffith. Is that it? Sure, I’ll give you time. Go see Jack. You’ve got a right to see the rest of your cards before you make your bet.” Looking at the man, the urge to throttle his sleek sureness was there in Will. But there was nothing he could do and he turned past Gorman to the door. Matt’s voice was there as he went into the hall, feeding Will’s anger and the ugly run of his own suspicion. “You'll be back, mister boy. You'll be back.” <CSQQURE, YOU’VE done all right, Jack. In fact, you’ve probably done a better job with the ranch than I would’ve done myself! But, damn it all, man, why all this beating around the bush? We've known each other a long time! Let’s have it, Jack! What's wrong?” “To tell you the truth, Will, I was afraid you'd take it like this.” “Take it like this?” Will stared at the man. “Like what, man? It is out of line for a man to want to own, to take over, to possess the ranch he’s worked for all his life? The old man and I built the Bar Bench, Jack! It’s my ranch! What do you think I’ve been thinking, these last two years? Been dreaming of? Tramping around the country like a loose-livered sad- dle bum!— The Bar Bench, man! To look at the land, the stork. the ranch; CONMUGLIOOKSa(EOl An)