Arizona Round-Up — page 79: what you’re looking at

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

ARIZONA ROUNDUP T7 had ever heard his bearded stepfather make. Jed held out his hand and Lance took it in silence. “So long, Pap, and tell Lil I reckon I’m sorry.” Jed nodded and went to the door. He opened it, stood there looking out among the trees and ... slowly closed it once more. The shot that tore a raw gash in the doorway missed his head by four inches. “They're coming,” he said. Chapter Sixteen VER IN THE office where Carriker, the day marshal, and Bothwell and Howard, the two night men, held sway dur- ing duty hours, Tex had made himself at home. He sat with his chair comfortably tipped back against the wall, his feet on the crude table that served as a desk. Only two men were in the cells and one of these was snoring, prebably a drunk brought in about daylight. From somewhere outside came the sounds of approaching footsteps mingled with grunts, oaths, and a bit of struggling and scuflling. Tex got up and laid down the paper, crossing the room in swift strides until he was behind the door and thus protected from sight. He looked at the conscious prisoner and patted the gun at his hip in a significant manner. At his left hip he wore a “second belt and sheath. This one was empty. Six men fought through the doorway and into the room. Four of them were disheveled and just a little bloody. The two others— Bothwell anc’ Howard—were tousled and panting. The green clubs were gripped in their left hands. “Stand still and don’t move,” Bothwell ordered, and stepped back far enough to jerk his gun free. “Get those keys, Fred.” “Just yuh wait!” blustered one of the prisoners. “We're part of the vigilantes, an’ when we git outa here it won't only be stage comicbooks.com