Argosy, Vol. 120, No. 1 — page 97: what you’re looking at

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

THE TRAIL HORDE. Lawler was standing, he expected to see Antrim follow, to complete his work. Within a dozen feet of Lawler he halted, facing the corner. .He had not long to wait. For Selden and Krell, guns in hand, appeared almést instantly—their faces hide- ous with passion. As they rushed around the corner they saw Shorty. ‘They saw Shorty first, because Shorty dominated the scene. A gun in each hand, he made a terrible figure. His eyes were blazing with the cold rage that had seized him at sight of Lawler, wounded—for Law- ler was now leaning against the wall of the cabin, and his gun had dropped from his hand. The unexpected appearance of Shorty startled Krell and Seldon. Surprise showed in their faces as they paused for an in- . finitesimal space and looked at him. And then their guns roared. Shorty, however, had anticipated them. His guns went off simultaneously, slightly in advance of theirs, belching fire and smoke in a continuous stream. Shorty did not seem to be hit by the. bullets from the guns of the outlaws; he seemed to pay no attention to them what- ever. - But the outlaws ceased shooting. Krell staggered, his guns dropped from his hands, and he stood, for an instant, looking fool- ishly at Shorty, his face becoming ashen. Then, without uttering a word, he lunged gently forward, his legs doubling; at the knees, and sank into the dust in a huddled heap. Seldon had ben hit hard, too. The shock of Shorty’s first bullet striking him had turned him partially around, so that his left side was toward Shorty. He had lurch®d forward a litle, and was turning, trying to use the gun in his left hand, when another bullet struck him. He grunted, stood slow- ly erect, and then fell backward stiffly. Shorty ran to him and to Krell, scan- ning their faces with savage intentness. When he saw that neither of them would bother him again, he leaped around the corner of the cabin and cautiously peered into the doorway. He saw Antrim stretched out on the floor of the cabin, face down and motionless. He t 87 stepped into the cabin, turned the outlaw over, grinned saturninely, then went out to where Lawler stood. When he reached the corner he saw Lawler bending over, picking up the pistol that had dropped from his hand a few sec- onds before. Lawler’s face was pale, but he grinned broadly at Shorty as the latter came up to him. “Shorty,” he said, “I saw you, but I couldn’t throw in with you. I reckon An- trim hit me mighty hard. In my right shoulder. I was trying to change my gun to the other hand when I dropped it. } didn’t seem to be able to get it again—just then.” He grinned. ‘Lucky you came, Shorty,” he added jocosely. “T reckon it’s lucky I’m here right now!: You're hit bad, Lawler!” He led Lawler into the cabin, where he tore away the latter’s shirt and exposed the wound—high up on the shoulder. After a swift examination, Shorty ex- claimed with relief: “Tt ain’t so bad after all. She bored through that big muscle. Must have struck like a batterin’ ram. No wonder you was weak an’ dizzy for a minute or so. There’s a hole big enough to stick your hand through. But she ain’t dangerous, boss!” Shorty had not been touched by the bullets the outlaws had sent at him. He was energy personified. He got water, bathed the wound in Lawler’s shoulder, bandaged it, and at last grinned widely as Lawler got up, saying he felt better. A little later they went out and mounted their horses. Lawler was pale, though he sat steadily in the saddle; and Shorty, big, exuding elation, grinned broadly as he glanced back at the cabin as they rode away from it. They rode up the river trail; Shorty ex- pressing his elation by emitting low chuckles of grim mirth; Lawler silent, rid- ing steadily, his gaze straight ahead. It took them long to reach the point on the plains where the trails diverged. And then Lawler spoke: ‘‘ Shorty, you go back to Hamlin’s and tell mother I killed Antrim. You needn’t mention this scratch I’ve got.” “Where you goin’?” demanded Shorty. COMmiicloo @ S C@