Ace High Western Magazine, March 1941 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

12 “ACE-HIGH WESTERN STORIES the town hall he began calculating how to reach some compromise with Scotty. But the weeks saw the schism tear wider; saw Bill and Jeanie fall deeper in love; saw Hass Colley boost the young horse-rancher out of his Grange leader- ship. ... Colley was a late-comer to the canyon. He rattled in one day with a wagon full of bar-fixings and liquor, and set up the Apache Bar. From behind the pine-plank counter he preached his drawl- ing sermon. Compromise, Colley claimed, was all Bill Bronc could think of. Placate — Kingbolt with free water? The hell they would ! ; Bill got kind of crazy-desperate. He reckoned, that if he and Jeanie were mar- ried, the two camps might be united. But Scotty Hallett pitched him off his land when he came asking for Jeanie’s hand. “T’d liefer a daughter of mine married a Mex sheepherder!’” he roared. Bill’s pride was so shot full of holes that his temper leaked out. There was a near gunfight. Every day brought the match closer to the fuse. Under Colley’s subtle, stinging whip, the Grange turned on Bill Bronc, who had saved them from ruin a year before. Bill Bronc and Jeanie came to the only escape they could see. Elopement. They had an hour’s headstart on Scotty Hallett already, and with decent luck they would make it to Sacaton. ... Remembering all that, Bill gave the - road all his attention. The path tumbled swiftly toward Sweetwater Creek. Rocks and trees whirled by in a jumpy blur. Dust boiled in behind them. The horses ran uncertainly in the darkness. Bill was driving too fast. Thundering around a turn, the wagon lurched into the wash of Sweetwater Creek. Round, white stones flew high be-— hind the grinding wheels. Then, with a surge of panic, Bill saw the washout ahead of them! Instantly he was kicking at the foot- brake and dragging at the reins. “Red! Salty! Whoa—! Brake-shoes_ squalled, smoking. The wagon slewed and Jeanie came to her feet with the back of her hand against her mouth. The horses plunged from sight. Bill Bronce felt a tremendous yank on the ribbons. He soared over the buck- board and sprawled across the back of a wildly-threshing pony. The injured animal staggered up, took a step and lunged against the cut-bank. Again Bill was falling. Rocks smashed into his spine and he lay there watching ' the wagon drop its front wheels into the wash and come end-over upon him. A small form in a gray cloak and travelling dress flashed down. A sledge-hammer seemed to hit Bill on the point of his chin and he lay limp among the debris of torn horse-flesh and splintered wood. CHAPTER TWO Back Road to Hell Ee nauseating, warm odor of blood was in Bill’s nostrils when pain jarred him awake. A shapeless mass crashed down upon his face and agony speared his brain. Again, before he could move, his face was bludgeoned by something that mashed his nose with a crackling of gristle. Bill came up on his elbows. It was his Salty horse, spasmodically raising his head and letting it drop as he frantically sought to rise. Bill clawed free, dragged him- self painfully away. For a moment, then, he was sitting at the base of the bank with his face buried in his hands. Nausea twisted through him, He was sick, with a feeling of blood Joose somewhere inside him. Abruptly, he remembered. . . . With a moan, he stumbled to his feet, He fell against a wheel that still spun gently. | oO SJ GoOmicboo (E@)