Tex Boy: "A Romantic Western, Lusty Drama . . . Action Packed Adventure"!

Tex's hand dropped slowly and hung at his side. "Yuh-damned-coward!" he gritted. "Yuh know yuh wouldn't get any more than an even break with me, and that ain't enough for yuh. You're afraid to take a chance. You're afraid-God!" he cried suddenly, swept out of his mockery by the rage within. "And I can't kill yuh! Yuh won't show nerve enough to give me a chance! Yuh won't even fight, will yuh?" He leaned and struck the Pilgrim savagely. "Get out uh my sight, then! Get out uh town! Get clean out uh the country! Get out among the coyotes-they're nearer your breed than men!" For every sentence there was a stinging blow-a blow with the flat of his hand, driving the Pilgrim back, step by step, to the door. The Pilgrim, shielding his head with an uplifted arm, turned then and bolted out into the night. Behind him were men who stood ashamed for their manhood, not caring to look straight at one another with so sickening an example before them of the craven coward a man may be. In the doorway, Tex stood framed against the yellow lamplight, a hand pressing hard against the casings while he leaned and hurled curses in a voice half-sobbing with rage. It was so that Philpot found him when he came looking. When he reached out and laid a big-knuckled hand gently on his arm, Tex shivered and stared at him in a queer, dazed fashion for a minute. "Why-hello, Philpoty!" he said then, and his voice was hoarse and broken. "Where the dickens did you come from?"