Arizona Round-Up — page 110: what you’re looking at

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

108 WILLIAM HOPSON Furthermore, he’s tellin’ you men somethin’ thet is of partickler intrest to all of us. What about it? Does he git to go on talkin’?” “Let him gol” came in a bellow from a dozen voices as one. Men who had been sitting down cross-legged in the street now rose to their feet. Gardner, aware for the first time that things were getting out of control and had started backfiring at Pearson and himself, looked at the Pound owner. He gave in with ill grace. It was obvious that both men now were worried. “Very well,” the “judge” ordered, after rapping with the bung starter. “The court reverses its decision. The witness will con- tinue.” “Thanks,” Jed said dryly, and relit the pipe which had gone out. “As I was saying, that was the setup here, nor am I making any excuses for my daughter. She ran the business the way she wanted to, just as Harlan Pearson, the man who's out to break her, now plans to run his. Then came this business today. The regular stage driver, Bingham, was sick yesterday and asked me to take his run twelve miles north and return. A certain man was expected to be aboard—the ‘judge’ in this case, Gardner— carrying a large sum of money. Four miles north of town three men, all wearing bandanas over their faces, stopped the stage and shot the guard without warning. I hauled up and lifted my hands with the lines in them. One of the bandits came. forward to look into the coach. I recognized him by his clothes, his horse, his build, and in spite of his attempt to disguise his voice I recog- nized that too. It was Bud Bailey, the man—” “Why, you dirty old son!” Bailey roared from where he stood shackled. “If I could get off—" More rapping. It took five minutes to get order again. Jed went on calmly. “There was another man back of him, the one who was killed in the attempted getaway, whom I thought I recognized as Newt Thurby, one of Bailey’s men, but I wasn’t sure until after Tex Burnett dropped him with a rifle. The third man stayed back in the buckbrush, only his head and shoulders visible, but there could be little doubt of his identity too. It was my stepson, Lance Haraway, one of the defendants now on trial.” A murmur went through the tense crowd. Not a man stirred now. Pearson had a look of plain astonishment on his face. Lance comicbooks.com