Action-Packed Western Magazine, Vol. 3, No. 2 — page 68: what you’re looking at

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

8 ore him. He was sorting them rapid- 9, flicking a few tfito a small satchel A a GOrAs: desk, tossing others ; fe ‘fireplace. A long-barreled re- im for a little titme, Bart turned the corner of the house and peered into the diting room. It was lighted, but no-one was there. A coffee urn and a platter of sandwiches were on the table. Bart could not forbear grinning when he _ noted that several pendants still were missing from the chandelier. A visit to the rear of the place showed that the kitchen had a dim light, but appeared to be empty. Bart slanted acoss the yard toward the dark- ened bunkhouse. Rounding it, he found the stone shed Stanley had mentioned. Inside it, he counted ten men, all work- ing at top speed. Some were dumping small quatities of the rich sand into board sluices with cross-grooved bot- toms; others played water into the sluices. The puncher was delighted to see that but five of the ten men wore their belts, and no rifles were in sight. Another thing that pleased him was that the shed had but one door, and the windows had heavy bars. He imme- diately circled back to where the three greeted him with a barrage of eager questions. “Yeh, now’s our time,” he told them, then explained what he had discovered. | “Well, what are we waitin’ fur?” Stanley wanted to know. | “We ain’t waitin’ for much,” Bart assured him. “Just to line up our work.” = “Gonna hit th’ shed first, or th’ house?” Speck asked. “Both—you three hit th’ shed; I hit th’ house.” . Pit" “No ‘buts’ anywheres aroun’. If we cracked down on them skunks in th’ shed, Fox would sashay out an’ blister us from behind. If we hit th’ house first, them polecats would come a-run- ACTION-PACKED WESPERN ‘But he’s got cat ears an’ cat Po “Y don’t care a damn if he’s got tiger eyes an’ grizzly claws, I’m goin’ in there an’ give him an argument. “Now. listen close: You three ease over there an’ plant yourself in th’ corner of the corral right in front of that shed door. Play dead till you hear bigness pick up over at th’ house. “There'll be shootin’-—no question "bout that. After it’s over, either Fox or me’ll come out of there. “Meanwhilst your work’s gonna be simple—though I ain’t sayin’ it’s gonna be easy. All you do is to throw lead in every damn geezer that comes through that shed door. “Only half of ’em is packin’ hard- ware; they'll bust out prompt when me - an’ Fox starts our circus. It’ll take the others a little while to get their belts - an’ set in. “Now get over there an’ fix your- selves as judicious as possible, an’ re- member this: It’s no use to shoot, "less you hit somebody. “Pick your men when th’ rush starts, an’ stack that door so full of dead ones that the others can’t climb over ’em. “Now let’s get goin’.” “Fox’ll hear you when you try to sneak up on ’im,” Hannon predicted. “I ain't gonna sneak up on ’im,”: Bart declared. “For that very reason, an’ bein’s you mentioned it, I'll ast you to change shoes with me.” “Tl do ’er, but I can’t see why,” Hannon grumbled, as he sat down on the edge of the trough and commenced hauling off a boot. | Busy unlacing a moccasin, Bart made no comment. When Hannon handed him a boot, he shook it, and it 17 “3 3 ee 3 74 == 3 SS Jingled lightly. “W or t do." ool an (@)