Ace-High, December 18, 1932

  Hell’s Hundred

  By Hal Leslie

  Glenn Rogers, a sturdy fellow, not over twenty, faced almost impossible odds. Unarmed, outnumbered, cornered, his plight was desperate. But there was a smoldering fire of vengeance in his heart and a mountain of strength in his body. He had no scruples about killing these murderous snakes who rode him; he needed only a break. . . .

  IG Mac Slade—better known darkness lay like a faintly luminous smear of throughout the Red Canyon country as

  deep purple.

  B “Black Mac”— shoved the ugly Inside the Oxbow there was light, muzzle of his forty-five hard against young

  rough hilarity, and the hard clack of poker

  Glenn Rogers’ flat midriff.

  chips on wooden tables. But the street was

  “I ain’t foolin’ whatever!” he snarled

  deserted. Only the score of saddled horses

  wolfishly. “Out with it, now—and come drowsing at the big boon’s long hitch-rail clean!”

  were dumb witness to the drama of hot greed

  Under the high moon the one street of

  and cool defiance going forward on the

  Los Astros town was a still river of silver

  shadowed porch.

  sand. But beneath the roofed porch of the

  A wash of light from a nearby window

  Oxbow Saloon, where four men stood, struck faintly upon Black Mac’s swarthy,

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  bearded face. His beady eyes were glittering

  hand swept hotly toward his gun. Rand Rogers

  like the eyes of a snake.

  stayed the move with a quiet word.

  “Out with it!” he repeated savagely.

  “Easy, boy.... Keep yore shirt on.” He

  “Come clean, or I’ll bust you wide open!”

  swung to the three men. “What’s going on

  Glenn Rogers, a shade under nineteen

  here?” he demanded evenly.

  but built sturdy as a young oak, knew that he

  “We was only funnin’,” muttered

  was in a tight fix. His back was hard against

  Black Mac. “Just throwin’ a little scare into

  the rough ’dobe wall of the saloon, and his

  him.”

  hands were high. But he didn’t crack. His

  “Yeah!” said Glenn icily. “Throwing a

  level gaze locked with Black Mac’s, gun into my belly! If you call that funnin’, you disregarding the two other men flanking Black

  polecat—”

  Mac with eager hands hovering at their gun

  Black Mac’s snarl cut him short. He surged

  butts.

  close with fist doubled. Rebellion at the

  “Go ahead and bust me,” he said epithet overrode for the moment his innate gamely. “You’ll never get what you want cowardice.

  from me!”

  But whatever he meant to do wasn’t

  Anger swept like the shadow of a accomplished. With a backhand sweep of his buzzard’s wing across Black Mac’s face.

  long arm, Rand Rogers caught him flush on

  “All right, then—keep yore mouth the mouth with the heel of his gaunt hand and shut, if that’s the way you want it! But keep it

  sent him reeling backward a pace. And it was

  shut good and tight! One yip outa you and I’m

  mute testimony to the well-known prowess of

  thumbin’ th’ hammer.... Clem,” he snapped

  old Rand Rogers’ gun hand that neither Black

  curtly to one of his hard-bitten henchmen,

  Mac nor his two henchmen made any move to

  “you snag this jasper’s irons. We’ll take him

  draw an iron.

  out on th’ mesa and make him talk!”

  Muttering sullenly, like the ominous

  “Seguro, ” grunted Clem.

  whispering of thunder over far hills, Black

  But before he could move to carry out

  Mac stalked down off the porch, unhitched his

  Black Mac’s order, the door of the Oxbow

  blaze-faced sorrel, and climbed leather. His

  opened from within and a finger of yellow

  two companions followed suit. Then the three

  light stabbed out across the porch. A gaunt

  rode briskly out of town.

  man with a grizzled beard and rugged

  Side by side, Glenn and his father

  physique was for a moment silhouetted watched them go....

  against the smoky glow as he emerged from

  “What was that sidewinder’s play,

  the doorway.

  son?” asked old Rand curiously. “He looked

  “Dad!”

  considerable like a coyote what’s been drove

  Glenn’s cry was sharp and clear. It

  away from fresh meat.”

  brought the gaunt man to an abrupt halt. His

  “And I reckon he feels like one, too,”

  head swung and his searching gaze picked out

  said Glenn grimly.... And after a moment: “He

  the group in the shadows. With three long

  saw you paying off for our grub and stuff with

  strides he was among them.

  that dust, over to the store. I saw him watching

  Black Mac’s lip twisted, and with a

  you tilt your poke—and I had sort of a hunch

  quick, furtive move he threw his iron home in

  that meant trouble in the wind. It come

  its holster. His two companions gave back an

  quicker’n I expected. Him and his two

  uneasy pace.

  sidewinders was waiting here in the shadows

  Glenn’s arms dropped, and the right

  for me. They backed me ’gainst the wall

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  before I had a chance to draw.”

  across the treeless mesa. They rode in silence

  “So,” observed old Rand thoughtfully.

  under the high moon toward the far-lying

  “Figgered yuh also had a poke on yuh. That

  Hell’s Hundred that was their destination.

  what they was after?”

  “No. They figured we’d made a strike,

  THE sun rose, red as blood and as the breath

  somewhere. Black Mac aimed to find out of a dragon. Glenn and Rand were weaving where. Aimed to wangle it outa me.”

  steadily out into Hell’s Hundred—a vast

  “Hell!” exclaimed old Rand sharply.

  domain of crag and canyon, butte and

  “Yuh didn’t—”

  pinnacle, sand, lava outcrop, and salt flats that

  “You bet I didn’t,” interrupted Glenn.

  gleamed and shimmered until the eye ached

  “Black Mac coulda salivated me and I’d never

  from looking at them. A grim and forbidding

  yipped!”

  land, and a man would have had to ride three

  Old Rand nodded with grim days to circle it.

  satisfaction. “I needn’t have asked yuh that

  It was old Rand’s eye that happened to

  question, son,” he said gently. “Yuh feelin’ th’

  catch, at mid-forenoon, the thin bloom of dust

  need of a little drink afore we hit leather?”

  rising far back on the trail. He directed

  Glenn shook his head. “Not whatever.

  Glenn’s attention that way and the two drew

  But I*m taking a pasear down to the store

  rein and considered.

  after a few more forty-fours for my rifle. They

  “Comin’ along at a right smart jog,

  might come in handy.”

  figgerin’ the heat,” observed old Rand calmly.

  Old Rand shrugged. “I don’t reckon

  “Black Mac!” exclaimed Glenn

  Black Mac an’ his gang will press us any,” he

  impulsively. “I’ll bet!”

  said quietly. “He’s yellower’n a skunk’s

  “Maybe so,” agreed Rand soberly.

  belly.”

  “But no three hawsses are makin’ that smoke.

  “Give a skunk the smell of an aig and

  If’n it’s Black Mac, he’s shore ridin’ with

  he’ll try to suck it,” said Glenn soberly. “I’m

  plenty company.”

  getting them cartridges.”

  “Plenty company is about his size of

  Old Rand thoughtfully curled a guts,” commented Glenn sourly. “Anyways cigarette and watched the sturdy youngster

  near an even game to buck, and his tail goes

  swing off down the street toward the general

  up like a scared antelope’s. Like last night.”

  store. The flare of the match as Rand lit his

  Old Rand nodded in grim confirmation

  smoke revealed a gleam of pride in his steady,

  of Glenn’s terse appraisal of Black Mac’s

  steel-blue eyes—eyes that he could have brand of courage. His eyes wrinkled against swapped for his son’s eyes and no man would

  the distance.

  have been able to tell the difference.

  “Shore looks like they

’re a-trailin’

  Glenn, a grim set to his lips, shortly

  us—whoever they be,” he said. “Shouldn’t

  returned from the store with his pockets heavy

  wonder but what yuh called th’ turn last night,

  with cartridges. His paint pony and old Rand’s

  at that.”

  roan were at the Oxbow hitch-rail, saddle bags

  “I’ll find out,” said Glenn promptly.

  bulging with provisions. Rand snapped away

  And he slid off his pinto and scrambled to the

  the butt of his cigarette and joined Glenn

  crest of a nearby hogback. And there he stood

  there. And the two mounted and rode out of

  like a figure in bronze, immobile, watching

  town.

  while the dust bloom advanced and grew.

  Once clear, they swung westward

  Old Rand curled a cigarette and

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  waited.... Glenn came down off his perch with

  At the end of two hours of steady

  hard lines about his mouth.

  riding, Glenn climbed a pinnacle and scanned

  “It’s him,” he said laconically. “I made

  the back trail. There was no dust, but his keen

  out his blaze-face in the lead. There’s a dozen

  vision detected a sun-flash that he suspected

  or so riders with him.”

  came from a bridle’s silver trim. And a few

  “Looks like he done collected his moments later he spotted a rider or two.

  whole gang for th’ party,” grunted old Rand.

  “They’re a-coming,” he said grimly as

  “He’ll run into a party he ain’t he rejoined his father. “Evident they’ve fanned expecting,” said Glenn savagely, pulling at his

  out, and they’re smelling us out like a pack of

  rifle in the saddle sheath. “We’ll hunt a likely

  hounds.”

  rock and smoke ’em a few!”

  Rock-jawed old Rand led off at

  “No,” said old Rand quickly. “That

  another tangent, driving deeper into the grim

  don’t sound.”

  heart of Hell’s Hundred. Glenn guessed, and

  “Why not?” demanded Glenn. “If he

  rightly, that his father’s object was to prevent

  aims to jump our prospect, he’s shore got lead

  any of the spread-out gang from heading

  coming to him!”

  them.

  “He’s got to find it afore he can jump

  The game went on.... Occasionally

  it,” said old Rand quietly. “That’s what he

  Glenn climbed to some vantage point and

  likely aims to do—track us down. Or else get

  surveyed the surrounding terrain. Sometimes

  hold of us an’ try to wangle it outa us. If we

  he caught a fleeting glimpse of some moving

  put our backs up now, all he’d do is surround

  object in the distance. More often he saw

  us with his gang an’ maybe throw a little long

  nothing.

  lead to keep our heads down. He’d dry us out

  The sun swung low. Sweat began to

  until we rattle.... No, son, we cain’t afford to

  dry and cake on the two tired horses. For a

  hole up for him.”

  long time there had been not the slightest sign

  The logic of this argument cooled of pursuit along the back trail.

  Glenn’s hot blood a bit. “What we going to

  Rand was ahead, Glenn riding a few

  do?” he asked.

  paces behind. They were headed toward the

  “Well—I ain’t one to dodge trouble

  mouth of a draw, some three hundred yards

  when it comes up an’ spits in my eye. But this

  away, where aspens grew thickly and where

  is one time I figger it’s best not to let it get

  there was a tiny spring that would freshen

  within spittin’ distance.”

  their tired horses.

  “You mean we’d better try to outfox

  Rand drew rein, turned in the saddle

  ’em? Try to lose ’em?”

  and scanned the back trail. Glenn looked that

  “Sounds reasonable, don’t it, son?”

  way, too.

  Glenn nodded and let his half-drawn

  “No sign, Dad,” he said. “I reckon

  rifle slide back into its sheath. “We’d better be

  we’ve—”

  moving,” he said tersely.

  He was interrupted by a queer,

  They struck off at a tangent in the

  coughing grunt from Rand’s roan—quickly

  broken country. Threading arroyos, skirting

  followed by the echoing crack of a rifle.

  outcrops and hogbacks, winding and twisting,

  Glenn jerked his head around sharply,

  taking advantage of every bit of ground that

  saw the roan crumpling. Old Rand made a

  seemed likely not to take the hoof prints of

  valiant effort to clear himself; but the spryness

  their horses, they worked a wide curve back

  of youth was no longer in him, and he was

  and away from their previous trail.

  caught fairly under the fall of his horse, one

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  long leg twisted beneath.

  Looking back, he saw his father, belly

  Glenn was off his pinto like a cat,

  down, coolly throwing lead at the oncoming

  tugging at his father’s shoulders. He pulled

  riders. A horse reared; a man fell. Glenn

  him clear just as a bunch of wild riders came

  twisted in the saddle and began to work the

  barging out from the mouth of the distant

  lever of his rifle.

  draw.

  A horse went down, its rider

  Old Rand tried to get up—fell back

  somersaulting. Another man sagged in the

  with a repressed groan. “My ankle— plumb

  saddle. And the rifles of Black Mac’s gang

  twisted outa shape, son,” he said quietly.

  began to bark. Lead whined around Glenn’s

  “We’ll ride double!” cried Glenn, and

  ears.

  stooped to lift the stricken man. “Damn their

  Cursing, he bent low and roweled the

  hearts!”

  pinto. Over his shoulder he saw four riders

  But old Rand reached up a long arm

  coming after him, hotfoot. The others had

  and shoved him away, almost savagely. piled off where lay Rand Rogers and his dead

  “We’d never make it, son. Not double. Fork

  roan.

  yore hawss an’ drift— pronto!”

  The pinto crashed through a mesquite

  “I ain’t leaving you, Dad!”

  thicket and a moment later was throwing sand

  “Got to!” asserted old Rand tersely.

  along a wide arroyo.... Glenn drew rein after

  “They’d get us both if we burden yore pinto

  rounding a bend and listened. He heard no

  thataway!”

  hoof-beats following.

  “I’m staying!” declared Glenn. He He dismounted, left his horse blowing, spread-lunged for his sheathed rifle, jerked the legged, with trailed reins. He scrambled up the weapon free, turned—and found himself slope of the arroyo to the crest of a low ridge.

 

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