Ace High Western Magazine, March 1941 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

- Out-Trail Caravan = HE oldster kept losing heavily. His grizzled face was flushed with ex- citement, and the hand holding his cards trembled with fear. It was robbery, pure and simple—the only difference being that Studs Duverne’s gun was still in its holster. From time to time a customer at the bar would turn and look at the rancher, then sigh and shake his head. It was a shame, but it was useless to interfere. The rancher kept on losing till there were only a few scattered chips left before him. Then he got a good hand. “Fifty bucks!” he said, pushing out his chips, his voice shaking with eagerness. Studs Duverne covered him, then raised him another hundred. The oldster’s jaw. sagged with his disappointment. “Hell, Studs,” he protested. got it!” Duverne shrugged and proceeded to rake in the pot. Then he stopped: “T might take twenty two-year olds ior that hundred dollars,’’ he said. 4 “T ain’t The rancher glanced at his cards again. “All right,” he said. He took the pen and paper that Duverne held out to him and scribbled a few hurried words. As Duverne’s hand drew back, it paused for a moment over the stacked cards. The movement was deliberately slow, as though he wanted the old man to see him palm a card. The oldster leaped to his feet with a muffled curse of rage. His hand moved for his gun. Duverne waited till the oldster had cleared leather, then his own hand swooped down and up. He fired twice, and two red holes appeared on the rancher’s chest. Those who saw it knew it was murder, even though the law would call it self- defense. No one said anything, and if anyone felt that Studs Duverne was work- ing with the banker Brasenly to clear the small ranchers out of Green Valley, he kept quiet about it. (Continued on page 6) EOPMIECLOOOKS (E©) i