The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1942-05-14
CHAPTER XII

the bartender recommended, clean
house called only "Carmelita's
Joint where the cooking was wholly
Mexican. Con talked of Slash Ok
weld and speculated concerning the
gunman's next movements. g..
Caramba nodded agreement with
Cons measure of Gale Goree.
''The real quill! Yes, sir! Much of
a man. Reckon we measure up to
Busted Wheel size? We might hit
up Goree for jobs, huh? wonder
how-come they call this Tension out
fit the Broken Wheel Wagon
Wheel ! have heard of, lots of times.
But a busted one"
Back in the cantina, explanation
of the brand came from the nervous
bartender.
''That was the Wheel, up to twen-
ty-thirty year back. Seems old To-
peka had him partner in some
i'P mine and they fell out and this
partner figured Topeka'd skinned
him. Which, maybe, Topeka done.
Anyhow, Emory was awful mad and
a hard man himself. He grabbed up
the Tension boy that was six or
seven and he run. Nobody's seen
the kid from that day to this-either
Emory killed him or maybe he's
got kids of his own, by now. But
Topeka come back from the last of
his trainings and he knocked chunk
out of his brand-changed it to the
Broken Wheel"
"You know, I'll bet my uncle knew
.,omethng about all this" Con said
Snoughtfully. "He never was much
20 talk, but he did use around Tivan
and on over, in his young days, be-
fore my aunt knocked his horns off.
I've heard him tell thing or"
slash Oxweld!" the bartender in
terrupted, his voice almost a groan.
Hes got everybody plumb cat
eyed, since Goree and the Wheelers
pulled out. Slash is poison. As soon
kiln you back or front without a
bobble. He just aims to get the kill
nag done. Now, he's plenty fast
EASTERN Goree, I bet you. But some
how he just can't get the glue out of
his holster around that Texas man.
II he could, he would kill him,
bet you anything. But"
There was a poker game going in
4 corner of the big room. Presently
Con and Caramba drifted over to
watch. A cowboy got up, processing
himseR empty of both money and
liquor. Con slid into the seat and
began TO play against three cowboys
and two nondescript townsmen. Ca
ramba booked on. Con had poor
cards for several hands and lost a
few doNars. Then, as he picked up
his cards on the sixth or seventh
deal and found three jacks, he
leaned back little and swore with
artful anazement.
Throw 'em away before they
land you in trouble-and let a man
set down and show these tinhorns
how TO play!" Slash Oxweld
xnarled at his shoulder. "Three
lacks is Rothing!"
Con pRt his cards down without so
much as turning his head. A man
who had been looking on from the
other SIDE of the table edged away
and began to walk fast toward the
door, looking back. Con stood and
pivoted deliberately to meet Ok
YIELDS grinning stare.
"You asked for It'll" Oxweld said
IN a high, fiat voice. "You just
asked for It'll" He grinned.
His thumb had been hooked in the
belt just over his tied-down holster.
Now, his hand twisted fiashingly.
Con, fully alert, had expected that.
Left-handed, he slapped down and
outward, just as he would have
blocked a boxers punch, to knock
Oxwefd's hand away from the Colt
butt. His own gun was inside his
shirt, comfortably Struggled in his
waist-band. AS he struck, he drew
and let the hammer drop as the
muzzle bore upon Oxweld, thumbed
the hammer back and fred his Sec
ond shot. Oxweld staggered with
each impact of lead. The flaming
powder at this pointblank range SET
his SHIRT afire. He spun with a
sroan and lurched one step away
from the table, then fell fiat.
A shot came from up the room.
Oxweld sprawled without moving.
Caranba's shot was like an echo
TO the report of that other mans
gun. A cowboy came in sight be-
side a table with lifted Colt and Ca.
ramba shot again and pulled dust
from the mans shirt. He dropped
the gum and went scrambling toward
The door on hands and knees. Ahead
ri MIN, fat little man jumped up
from under another table with a