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Dusty Trant -- Road Agent

by Lester Dent

They roped and threw this lone hombre forkin' the night trails. They wanted a stranger for their blind bargain?but they didn't figure on gettin' Dusty Trant--Road Agent!

THE hard-jawed ranny on the polka-dot black read menace in that lass rope swish in the darkness at his side. His hands turned into two tendon-wrapped claws and traveled for the .44 irons leathered to his thighs. His spur wheels sang on the polka-dot black's flanks.

The rope settled over his shoulders, tightening with a bullwhip crack. Plucked off the saddle, arms pinioned, he turned slowly over in space so that he crashed on his shoulder in the trail dust.

"Grab him!" a voice squawled.

Greasewood fluttered as men pitched for his squirming frame. The ranny kicked both feet, connected and sent a shadowy figure floundering back with arms and legs limber as strings.

"Keep 'at rope tight!" the voice yelped.

The ranny rolled, pumping, and freed his arms. He pawed to get the rope off his head. But it caught on his nose, tightened there, grinding his lips, crowding his jaws apart. Somebody kicked his feet from under him.

A man jumped on his stomach with high-heeled boots. The ranny's breath gushed squealing through his teeth. His stomach muscles writhed up in agonized knots. His heels beat a tattoo. His fingernails dug through the trail dust at the hardpan.

Three men sprawled atop him. Two clamped his arms. One got his feet.

"Strike a light!" the spokesman ordered.

Price: $0.99

Format: Electronic PDF File
10 Pages
First Published: 1932

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