and shoulder instead. Paxton screamed in agony as the shot spun him halfway around.
Rawley was still trying to get a shot off, so The Kid planted another round in him. Rawley’s head jerked, and the sombrero with its dangling, decorative balls went flying off his head. He finally managed to pull the trigger, but his gun was still pointed down and the slug smacked harmlessly into the loading dock at his feet. Rawley fell to his knees and pitched forward onto his face.
Panting in pain through clenched teeth, Paxton stood at the edge of the dock and tried again to raise his gun. The Kid fired for a fourth time, and this bullet sent Paxton plunging off the dock into the street. His face plowed into the dirt as he landed. He didn’t move again.
The pups had been squirming before the shots began to roar, but the thunderous reports had stunned them into stillness. The Kid glanced down at them to make sure they were all right and saw them staring up at him wide-eyed, with almost human expressions.
“Sorry,” he said.
He turned his attention back to the two men he’d just shot. He was pretty sure they were both dead, but he still had one round left in the revolver’s cylinder in case he needed it.
Neither man was moving. The Kid stepped over to the edge of the loading dock to take a closer look at Paxton, then used the toe of one of his boots to roll Rawley onto his back. The man stared up sightlessly into the night.
Bisbee had a reputation as a tough town. Most settlements that had sprung up because of their proximity to mines were like that. But even so, an outburst of gunfire was enough to draw considerable attention. A number of men converged on the general store to see what all the commotion was about.
He glanced over his shoulder when he heard a clicking sound behind him. He saw a man standing in the store’s doorway, pointing a double-barreled shotgun at him. The sound he’d heard had been both hammers of the greener being cocked.
“I want to see both hands empty, mister,” the man holding the shotgun grated, “or I’ll blow you plumb in two!”
Chapter 9
“Take it easy, Sheriff.” The Kid had spotted the badge pinned to the shotgunner’s vest right away. “The shooting’s over.”
“Damn right it’s over. If there’s any more guns goin’ off, it’s gonna be this greener o’ mine! I said show me your hands!”
The Kid slid his Colt back in its holster. He didn’t like pouching the iron without reloading it first, but under the circumstances he supposed it was the best thing to do.
“I’m not going to drop these pups,” he told the lawman. “I can’t very well shoot anybody with them, though, so I reckon you’ll have to be satisfied with one empty hand.”
The sheriff stepped out farther onto the loading dock. “Don’t you go gettin’ smart with me, boy. You’re gonna march right down to my jail. I’m lock-in’ you up.”
A tall, thick-bodied, balding man in an apron followed him onto the dock. “Why would you do that, Stewart?” he asked. “We both saw what happened. The stranger killed Paxton and Rawley in self-defense.”
“I don’t abide killin’s!” the sheriff snapped. “I’m puttin’ this fella behind bars until there’s an inquest.”
“Yeah, well, you know what the coroner’s jury is going to say. I’ll testify that Paxton and Rawley drew first, and that the stranger was just defending himself. You’ll be wasting your time and the county’s money locking him up.”
Sheriff Stewart turned his head to glare at the store owner. The Kid figured that’s who the man in the apron was. Stewart said, “I don’t like anybody tellin’ me how to do my job. You may be the mayor of Bisbee, Carmichael, but I work for the county, not the town!”
“I know that,” Carmichael said, “and I’m not trying to tell you how to do your job. I’m just saying that it’s pointless to put this man in jail tonight and turn him loose tomorrow.” He glanced at the
Rawley was still trying to get a shot off, so The Kid planted another round in him. Rawley’s head jerked, and the sombrero with its dangling, decorative balls went flying off his head. He finally managed to pull the trigger, but his gun was still pointed down and the slug smacked harmlessly into the loading dock at his feet. Rawley fell to his knees and pitched forward onto his face.
Panting in pain through clenched teeth, Paxton stood at the edge of the dock and tried again to raise his gun. The Kid fired for a fourth time, and this bullet sent Paxton plunging off the dock into the street. His face plowed into the dirt as he landed. He didn’t move again.
The pups had been squirming before the shots began to roar, but the thunderous reports had stunned them into stillness. The Kid glanced down at them to make sure they were all right and saw them staring up at him wide-eyed, with almost human expressions.
“Sorry,” he said.
He turned his attention back to the two men he’d just shot. He was pretty sure they were both dead, but he still had one round left in the revolver’s cylinder in case he needed it.
Neither man was moving. The Kid stepped over to the edge of the loading dock to take a closer look at Paxton, then used the toe of one of his boots to roll Rawley onto his back. The man stared up sightlessly into the night.
Bisbee had a reputation as a tough town. Most settlements that had sprung up because of their proximity to mines were like that. But even so, an outburst of gunfire was enough to draw considerable attention. A number of men converged on the general store to see what all the commotion was about.
He glanced over his shoulder when he heard a clicking sound behind him. He saw a man standing in the store’s doorway, pointing a double-barreled shotgun at him. The sound he’d heard had been both hammers of the greener being cocked.
“I want to see both hands empty, mister,” the man holding the shotgun grated, “or I’ll blow you plumb in two!”
Chapter 9
“Take it easy, Sheriff.” The Kid had spotted the badge pinned to the shotgunner’s vest right away. “The shooting’s over.”
“Damn right it’s over. If there’s any more guns goin’ off, it’s gonna be this greener o’ mine! I said show me your hands!”
The Kid slid his Colt back in its holster. He didn’t like pouching the iron without reloading it first, but under the circumstances he supposed it was the best thing to do.
“I’m not going to drop these pups,” he told the lawman. “I can’t very well shoot anybody with them, though, so I reckon you’ll have to be satisfied with one empty hand.”
The sheriff stepped out farther onto the loading dock. “Don’t you go gettin’ smart with me, boy. You’re gonna march right down to my jail. I’m lock-in’ you up.”
A tall, thick-bodied, balding man in an apron followed him onto the dock. “Why would you do that, Stewart?” he asked. “We both saw what happened. The stranger killed Paxton and Rawley in self-defense.”
“I don’t abide killin’s!” the sheriff snapped. “I’m puttin’ this fella behind bars until there’s an inquest.”
“Yeah, well, you know what the coroner’s jury is going to say. I’ll testify that Paxton and Rawley drew first, and that the stranger was just defending himself. You’ll be wasting your time and the county’s money locking him up.”
Sheriff Stewart turned his head to glare at the store owner. The Kid figured that’s who the man in the apron was. Stewart said, “I don’t like anybody tellin’ me how to do my job. You may be the mayor of Bisbee, Carmichael, but I work for the county, not the town!”
“I know that,” Carmichael said, “and I’m not trying to tell you how to do your job. I’m just saying that it’s pointless to put this man in jail tonight and turn him loose tomorrow.” He glanced at the
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