Arizona Round-Up — page 53: what you’re looking at

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

ARIZONA ROUNDUP 51 “But stay anyhow,” he suggested. “I can protect you, if I have to hire help. Lily might as well know now I’m against her as to find out later. Frankly, I don’t know which way to jump.” They were leaning against the bar, having a final nightcap of brandy. The place was almost deserted. “I can tell you a very good way,” the gambler suggested. “Things have been happening here within the past little while. Miners have been coming in after other miners and taking them out. They're holding a meeting.” “Well?” demanded Pearson. “They'll need a leader, Harlan. I understand you stand in here pretty solidly because of your conduct, square games, and open dislike of the tinhorns who've been fleecing your patrons. You've the intelligence and education theyll want and respect in a leader of the vigilantes. As leader, you can have the power you need to smash down the woman and bring her to you... on her knees. You can run every tinhorn out of town or force them to come in and work for you as they're working for her. Don't you see how simple it is? The gulch in the palm of your hand. Not even a man like this Tex Burnett could buck you. Pll remain and handle the tinhorn crew for you.” Pearson put down his glass on the bar. “I'll see you later, Luke. Stick to your room pretty close. I'm going down to that meeting. Where's it being held?” “Down in the big dining hall of Biggers’ cook shack for his men.” “Good. I'll be back later.” He went out and strode south along the boardwalk, walking fast. The tents in the block below his own place thinned out into nothingness on the flat floor of the gulch. A well worn wagon road gleamed enough for him to follow it. He walked a quarter of a mile until he saw light from the window of a long, low building of new pine board. Scores of men were milling around the double doors at one end. They were talking, mostly low-voiced. A few, still feeling the effects of the liquor they'd drunk during the night, were boasting and blowing, but the ones who could be depended upon for direct action weren’t drunk and they weren't loud. comicbooks.com