a moment’s hesitation, the man ran behind his spooked horse with the primed buffalo gun gripped firmly in his hands. The dust that kicked up by the hoofs of his mount gave him a little cover and he intended to use that to his advantage. As he got closer to the huge boulder his eyes were locked on to the gap between it and the rock face. His squinting eyes could clearly see movement beyond its huge bulk. Shadows danced on the canyon wall. The low-life Iron Eyes was hiding there, waiting to ambush him, he thought. His horse had only just passed the boulder when it slowed to a halt, then turned to look at whatever was hiding behind the large rock. It too had seen something behind the boulder, the man told himself. The man was now within the range of the Navy Colts. He had to act quickly if he were to survive a showdown with such a devious and skilled enemy. He would have to get a clean shot with his buffalo gun to finish the bounty hunter off with one bullet. The man knew that he would have little time to reload the mighty single-shot rifle in his hands if he missed his target. It was a thought too awesome to even dwell upon. This had to be done swiftly. He crouched into the floating dust and then ran to the opposite rock face. He could see the Apache pony clearly just behind the rock as it vainly fought against its bonds. Where was Iron Eyes? Knowing that he was risking walking into the deadly sights of Iron Eyes’ Navy Colts, he trained the barrel of his buffalo gun in the direction of the skittish pony and cautiously edged forward. Inch by inch, his boots moved along the canyon wall through the soft sand. Sweat poured from beneath his Stetson hatband and ran unchecked down his weathered face. Then he caught sight of the bounty hunter’s long trail coat against the boulder and the distinctive blue gun resting by its frayed sleeve-cuff halfway up the jagged rock. A sense of panic suddenly overwhelmed him. The long trail coat was covered in blood and Iron Eyes was motionless. A thousand questions raced unanswered inside the sniper’s brain. Had Iron Eyes died from the shot that had brought him off his pony earlier? With a speed that defied the heat of Devil’s Pass, he ran forward and squeezed the trigger. The buffalo gun blasted its deafening charge. The bullet hit the coat dead center and the boulder exploded into a thousand pieces. The man watched it fall to the ground. His eyes widened when he realized that the trail coat had been carefully placed against the side of the boulder. There was no one inside its already blood-soaked fabric. Where was Iron Eyes? His mind screamed as his fingers desperately pulled another bullet from the belt hanging over his shoulder. He opened the chamber of the weapon, pulled out the still-smoking brass casing, then slid the fresh shell into the chamber. He locked it into place. Then he heard the sound of spurs again. He hauled the hefty weapon around and stared at the spurs hanging on the saddle horn of the terrified Indian pony. ‘ What the hell?’ he muttered as the thought that he had been well and truly tricked sank at last into his fevered brain. He stared at the coat on the ground, then searched the area behind the boulder for the man he was hunting. There was no sign of Iron Eyes anywhere. Had the bounty hunter somehow disappeared into thin air? That was the way it seemed to the confused man as he lowered the rifle and moved towards the tethered Indian pony and the long sharp spurs that had been deliberately left hanging on the saddle horn. Before he had time to think, he heard a sudden noise behind him. He twisted on his heels and fired his buffalo gun again. Blood splattered all over him. He watched in horror as his horse was nearly cut in half by the shot from his own smoking weapon. The pitiful creature was knocked backwards and crumpled heavily into the blood-covered sand. His startled gaze darted away from the body of the stricken animal and