COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
Copyright © 2012 by Wildside Press LLC. All rights reserved.
“A Texan Rides the Trouble Trail,” by Johnston McCulley, originally appeared in Thrilling Western, 1943.
“Sixguns to Bowie,” by Robert J. Hogan, originally appeared in Exciting Western, September 1949.
“The Drive,” by Clarence E. Mulford, originally appeared in Pearson’s Magazine, January 1913.
“Thieves of Black Rock Desert,” by Bill Anson, originally appeared in Masked Rider Western, Dec. 1946.
“Long Sam Jumps the Devil,” by Lee Bond, originally appeared in Texas Rangers, July, 1949.
“Gun-Whipped!,” by Carmony Gove, originally appeared in Triple-X Western, January 1932.
“Easy Money,” by Ben Frank, originally appeared in Real Western, May 1952.
“The Trail Trap,” by T. W. Ford, originally appeared in Western Action, November 1943.
Ride Proud, Rebel!, by Andre Norton, originally appeared in 1961.
“Long Sam Collects,” by Lee Bond. originally appeared in Texas Rangers, April 1940.
“Mitigating Circumstances,” by Lon Williams, originally appeared in Western Action, October 1952.
“Night of the Thirteenth,” by J. Allan Dunn, originally appeared in West, December 5, 1926.
“A Lonely Ride,” by Bret Harte, is reprinted from Selected Stories of Bret Harte (1902).
“Trumpets West!” by Luke Short, originally appeared in Argosy, July 1945.
“Pay Out West,” by Thomas Thursday, originally appeared in Western Outlaws, December 1929. No record of copyright renewal found.
The Virginian, by Owen Wister, originally appeared in 1902.
“The Spirit of the Range,” by B. M. Bower, is reprinted from The Lonesome Trail and Other Stories (1904).
“Mountain Man,” by Robert E. Howard, originally appeared in Action Stories, March-April 1934.
“Guns of the Mountains,” by Robert E. Howard, originally appeared in Action Stories, May-June 1934.
“Don’t Frame a Red Head,” by Clarence E. Mulford, originally appeared in Western Fiction, August 1935.
“Ranger Out of Bounds,” by Johnston McCulley, originally appeared in Texas Rangers, August 1945.
“Ranger Style,” by J. Allan Dunn, originally appeared in Wild West Weekly, August 11, 1928.
“Plumb Amusing,” by Jackson Cole, originally appeared in Masked Rider Western, June 1949.
“Long Sam’s Singing Six-Guns,” by Lee Bond, originally appeared in Texas Rangers, February, 1948.
A TEXAN RIDES THE TROUBLE TRAIL, by Johnston McCulley
Chapter I
Bullet Song
It was sunset when the lanky man with the lean, bronzed face stopped his tired pony in front of the public stable in the little Border town of Vista. He sagged slightly in his saddle as if from weariness as he made a rapid but thorough inspection of the town’s one narrow street. It was not more than a couple of hundred yards long, was fringed with tumbledown buildings, and carpeted with velvety dust. A few ramshackle habitations dotted the rocky hillside.
Several men were wandering around the street as if they had no particular object in life, and some ponies were tied to the hitch-rail in front of the saloon. Vista looked like a place of peace, rather than a spot where injustice prevailed.
From the semi-dark depths of his stable, Lew Dawes, the stableman, watched the stranger as he sat his saddle against a background of orange sunset.
The new arrival in Vista bestrode a bay pony which bore a brand unknown to the local range. His attire was the customary garb of the cow country. He wore a gun with the holster tied down, and the walnut-butt of the weapon had that worn, smoky appearance which comes as a result of frequent handling. Lew Dawes half expected to see an official star on the man’s vest, but no badge of authority glittered there.
The stableman put aside the pitchfork with which he had been scattering straw in the stalls for bedding and shuffled to the doorway, where he leaned against the casement and yawned. The stranger noticed him.
“You the boss man here?” he asked.
“That’s right. Name of Lew Dawes.”
“I’m Ned Houston, from over Texas way.”
“You look some tuckered out, Mr. Houston, and so does your pony,” Dawes suggested. “A little rest might do you both some good. I reckon it’ll be safe enough. I don’t see any dust cloud comin’ from the direction of Texas.”
Houston grinned. “Oh, I’m too far ahead of ’em for you to see their dust yet,” he replied.
He got down out of his saddle, led his pony to the stable door, and Dawes took the reins. “I want you to take good care of this pony,” Houston ordered. “And you can fix up a bed of hay outside his stall, so’s I can spread my blankets on it. I’ll sleep here, if at all.”
“Shucks! You don’t have to do that, Mr. Houston. Vista is a regular town, with all the comforts. In the back of the saloon buildin’ are a couple of rooms as are rented for human beddin’ purposes sometimes, and right now there ain’t any customers.”
“That’s handy—but I’ll sleep outside the stall where my pony is stabled,” Houston said firmly.
“Yes, sir. Whatever you like. I can fix you up a good feed of oats, too, if you say the word.”
Houston eyed him coldly, “I ain’t in the proper mood for jokin’ right now,” he warned. “I didn’t come here to joke. I’m here to look into a certain matter and mebbe raise a few ructions.”
“It’s like that, huh?”
“Yeah,” Houston said. “Generally, I’m a mild man. I ooze peace and friendship from every pore. I pat dogs on their heads and chuck little children under their chins. I’m mild till somethin’ happens to rile me. Then I get mad, and I’m a regular caution. I want everybody to understand that, so’s it can’t ever be said afterward that I jumped on ’em unwarned.”
“That’s right kind of you, Mr. Houston.”
“I think so. Where can I eat?”
“Well, sir, the saloon man’s got a fat wife who can sling some pretty fair grub, if you can stand it a mite spcy. She’s a Mexican.”
“Never scorn a Mexican woman’s cookin’ if you’re real hungry,” Houston advised. “She can take a handful of frijoles, a slab of fat mutton and a few peppers and dish up somethin’ tasty. I need some smokin’ tobacco—”
“The saloon man can accommodate you.”
“Seems to me, Mr. Dawes, that you’re right busy workin’ up trade for the saloon man. His place ain’t the only one in town. From where I’m standin’, I can see a sign which says, ‘Brandell Tradin’ Post’.”
“No doubt,” the stableman said. “But you bein’ a stranger hereabouts, mebbe I’d better caution you some.”
“Regardin’ what?”
“It ain’t healthy for an hombre to trade at Torn Brandell’s place. There’s a feud ragin’ between him and Sid Jarles, who owns the Three S cattle outfit. Jarles and his punchers are fendin’ folks away from the tradin’ post.”
“When I get headed in a certain direction, I don’t fend easy,” Houston declared. “You take care of my pony. I’ll be back later.”
“Wait a minute, Mr. Houston. You don’t want to underestimate what I’ve told you. The trouble between Sid Jarles and Tom Brandell is right bitter.”
“What could cause a bad ruckus between a ranch owner and a tradin’ post man?”