Arizona Round-Up — page 101: what you’re looking at

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

Ch apter . Twenty -one EX JOGGED the black past the north end of the Pheasant, his eyes unconsciously going to the corner window where a woman was waiting, her heart being torn to pieces a pinch at a time. He noted the back steps going up to a private entrance and saw a grizzled freighter descending. The freighter was one of those who had worked with Jed. Tex rode on toward the wagon yard and swung down inside close by a big shed. Lindsay and his men were about fifty yards behind, following him. Curley had unhitched the stagecoach four and hurried back to the Pound. The coach looked deserted; red smears were still evident on the floor where two dead men had lain. A group of other freighters stood around, solemn, talking in low voices. “Howdy, Tex greeted them. They nodded, looking him over. The chug of the mining machinery was stilled now. There was no sound in the gulch except that buzz of voices over in the street where the miners’ court was going into drumhead session. “I just come from the jail,” Burnett said. “Talked with Jed.” “How is he?” one asked. | “Cool. He won't be afraid. Asked me to come over and dispose of his wagon and team. Any of you fellows want to buy the outfit?” And he named the price. They shuffled their fect and looked at one another. A grizzled man with a gray beard spoke up. “Too bad about Jed, I reckon. We'd like to buy his outfit all right, mister, but we ain't got the money. “Got a couple of good saddle horses handy?” They looked at him sharply. “You a friend of his, hey?” Tex nodded. “From the old days when he was a tinhorn gam- .99 comicbooks.com