Arizona Round-Up — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

Kid Chapter Eleven . GE OLD IT, MEN! Quiet! Everybody down. Come up here, Howard.” The crowd settled. Boots scraped on the floor. Somebody coughed. The marshal came forward. A Colts .44 dangled from his right hand. : “Bothwell and me were patrolling when we heard the shot further up the street, in back of one of the buildings,” he began. “We thought it was some drunk miner takin’ a pop at the sky on his way home. So we went over. Four or five men were around Tom, who was layin’ on his face. He'd been hit plumb center right between the shoulder blades an’ his pockets turned inside out. We lit matches and then one of the boys picked up this gun. Bothwell said to bring it down here and see if any of you ever seen it before. It’s a .44 caliber single-action Colt. The front sight has been filed off—” Pearson was staring at the gun with a queer kind of fascina- tion. He felt a strange little chill run along his spine. He had seen that gun before! He had seen it lash fire from Tex Burnett’s hip over the poker table in his upstairs gaming room an hour before, had seen Massey—his own friend—go down before its flaming bullets. Howard held up the gun. Biggers took it, examined it, held it aloft in the light. “Anybody ever see it before?” the mine owner called. “Shiny walnut handles; front sight filed off?” Then one voice spoke up in the silence that followed. It said: “T have.” Harlan Pearson got up. He went over, took the weapon, examined it, nodded his head. “It’s the same gun, all right, men. ~ “Whose?” asked Howard. BA comicbooks.com