Pulp Fiction, 1941 · page 23 of 116
Ace High Western Magazine, March 1941 — page 23: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1941. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
ie ee PAGS fi x ke . a Pd 2 “ Eee +: P. na ni e ‘ ' 3 ? Fe Le. Fae sy Fete. t asloses 4 ; ote OR aN ; an iz rt ed SIXGUN SAVIOR OF DOOMED RANGE 21 barroom began to empty. As the last tramping boot fled, the sound of hoofbeats swelled through the town. Bill drove the -gun deep. be “‘Mosey up front, slow-like. ... By the time shod hoofs cut the dirt of Frijole Flat’s one street, the town was like a somnolent, coiled rattler. Behind each window trembled a nervous trigger-finger. Scotty Hallett pulled up in front of the Apache, riding high and mighty on a big bay. Twenty Rafter H riders and King- bolt cowmen ground down behind him, Hand aloft, Hallett let a slow gaze quest through the dirty windows, then stared on down the street. *Town’s dead, dammit !”’ he called back. ‘‘And there ain’t two dozen live here.” Milt Cassiday’s high tones shrilled: ‘Nothin’ to stop us firin’ up the stores before we push along—” “Nothin but forty Winchesters, cow- nurses!” A slug cracked spitefully above Scotty’s head and screamed off an adobe wall. CHARGE of grape-shot might have produced a similar milling of horses and yelling of startled men. The punchers were fighting wheeling ponies and peering about for the hidden army. Bill Bronce kept his gun snug against Colley’s ribs as the gambler yelled again. “We'll empty every saddle in sight, less’n we see the hind ends-of your broncs pronto! Don’t try this’n again, Hallett.” The men out there were cold sober now. They were edging their mounts back. Their hands stayed shy of gun-steel. Scotty Hallett couldn’t keep the disap- pointment from his voice. “We'll be back, Colley. If my daughter dies, God Himself won't be. able to save you! You’ve won one hand; not the whole game.” His admission of failure marked the way for a fumbling, ignoble retreat. The You glide through whiskers like a breeze— And find new comfort, speed and ease With Thin Gillettes, priced four for ten; They rate sky-high with thrifty men! Top quality at rock-bottom “comicboo “S (E(@)