Action-Packed Western, May 1957 — page 64: what you’re looking at

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

64 ACTION-PACKED WESTERN what Brant had said about the box canyon. He told how he had overheard the talk in Freddie’s about the cattle losses to the north. He didn’t tell her about what had happened at Triggers’ shack, or about Rondo. There was fire in Gennie’s eyes now. She reminded Lavery now of her fa- ther, but with the fight still there. “I know what canyon dad must have meant,” she told him, her jaw set. “Jim, I’m going with you.” He didn’t say anything right away. Mrs. Brant moved around like a shadow, as if she didn’t hear or see them, She would need attention. Grief had made her numb. “This is man’s work, Gennie,” Lavery said then. Gennie tossed her head. Lavery felt a pride in this girl. She had something he admired—courage, vitality and de- termination. “I’m a Brant,” she an- swered sharply. “This is Brant work.” But he would not let her come with him. She watched him ride off, her eyes dark and grim, her slender body drawn up straight as a cottonwood. HE CUT INTO Lazy Y range, fol- lowing the directions Gennie had given him. He rode cautiously, search- ing the range for sight of other rid- ers, keeping his pony to the valleys. He felt his senses keenly alert, as if they had been sharpened for this mo- ment, knowing that if he were discov- ered or made a wrong move, he might never get another chance. Royce would soon enough know that old Triggers’ cache had been used by Rondo to buy the Lazy Y. A bullet in the back would be the easiest way to get rid of Lavery. No one cares much when a killer is drygulched. Ahead, the hills were closer. He could make out the cliff of rock which Gennie had said would indicate the en- trance to the canyon. You wouldn’t suspect from this distance there was any opening in the hills. Lavery cut west, angling to come up to the canyon from under the cover provided by the tree-clad slopes of the hills. The bunch grass brushed his stirrup boots. It was then he first caught sight of the other rider. He saw the dark figure on horseback break out on the top of a rise, then disappear in a dip. Lavery drew up and waited, eyes squinting against the sunlight, for the other rid- er to reappear. Five minutes passed. Then the rider showed again, closer this time, coming along a ridge at right angles to Lavery, as if heading directly toward the mouth of the canyon. Lavery cursed silently, not knowing as yet whether the rider was aware of him, but realizing that it would be only a matter of time before he was dis- covered. The mounted figure was rapidly growing larger. Riding fast, and tak- ing little effort to keep from being seen. Lavery thought, the meeting had best take place under conditions most favorable to himself. He began riding up the valley again, his eye constantly scanning the range, plotting the meet- ing so that the other would have the sun in his eyes as they came into shoot- ing distance. But it became suddenly apparent that the other had sighted him. The rider wheeled around, came _ loping through the grass toward Lavery. Lavery drew up, forehead creased, and reached toward his holster. Something about the approaching rider disturbed him. It was like a memory returning out of the past. Not yet clear and formed, but familiar. The rider disappeared behind a crest of range. Broke suddenly much closer. Lavery swallowed hard, his lips going tight as he kicked his horse up out of the valley. He came up close to the rider before he could actually be- lieve what he saw. “I told you not to come, Gennie,” he said gruffly. comicbooks.