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#1
Old 07-29-2012, 05:15 AM

There were two of them.Big, ugly men.They rode into Deadwood at dusk, and they had a third horse with them.The first man was the biggest, and he wore two guns tied down. The second man had only one gun, and he had two fingers missing from his gun hand.When they came swaggering into the saloon, the thongs were already loosed from the hammers of their shooting irons. They made their way over to the bar, and the bartender looked up at them.

“What can I get you fellas?” the bartender asked.

The first man leaned close and motioned for the bartender to come closer.His breath harsh with the smell of old whiskey,making the tender regretting his words. The bartender stood on the tips of his toes and leaned across the bar holding his breath.

“We’re lookin’ for a man goes by the name Buckshot,” the first man said in a quiet voice. “He’s wanted for murder. You show ‘em to us, and do it without advertisin’ it and we'll kindly leave with out destroying your place..”

The bartender looked up into the man’s cold, hard face, at his crooked nose and his mean eyes, taking in his rugged features. “He’s at the corner table,” he said after a moment. “Red Beard.”

The man stepped away from the bar, glanced at his partner, and then looked around at the table indicated by the bartender.Buckshot was sitting on the far side, his back to the wall, facing in the direction of the saloon’s doors. The two men started over to the table.The first man hovered behind the man to whom was dealing cards, while the second took hold the man’s collar.

“Take a walk,” the second man barked, lifting the other fellow up out of the chair and shoving him out of the way.Buckshot watched them without blinking.

“You Buckshot?” the first man said as his partner turned back around to face them.

“Names are for tombstones,” Buckshot replied quietly taking a long swig from the whiskey bottle.

“That ain’t what I said.” The larger of the two men snapped back,leaning his cracked knuckles on the edge of the table.

“Just the same. Who’s asking?”Buckshot gave a crooked smile and slammed the bottle onto the table.The man exchanged a glance with his partner, then looked back at Buckshot. “They’s a bounty on your head, Buckshot. Dead or alive. Only alive pays more.”

Buckshot straightened a little in his chair. For a moment, he looked unsure, but he quickly regained his posture and his expression went suddenly blank. “You sure about that, friend?”

“Yeah we’re sure,” the second man said suddenly. “Now get up and let’s get goin’.”

Buckshot remained seated, not moving, unblinking, the smile glued back onto his face as he looked up to the two men..

“You hear’d me?” the second man said loudly. “I said get up!”

“I heard you the first time,” was Buckshot hushed reply.

“Then get up!” the first man shouted.By now the entire saloon had fallen silent. Several of the patrons were nonchalantly making their way to the door, and the rest of them had backed closer to the walls.

“You give us just one reason to put a bullet in you, Buckshot, and we’ll do it,” the first man said, lowering his voice. “Go on. Draw ‘at smoke wagon of yours and you’ll be dead before you know it.”The people remaining in the saloon held their breath.The tension in the air was heavy, almost visible in the saloon’s smoky interior.The first man’s hands moved closer to his guns.The second man’s gun hand hovered over his holster.Buckshot looked as calm as ever.

Then, he dropped his cards and placed the palms of his hands down on the surface of the table. He stood slowly, and looked up at the two men. “All right,” he said. “I don’t want any bloodshed here.”The two men standing across from him exchanged puzzled looks, and then looked back at Buckshot. The second man crossed slowly over to where Buckshot stood and took the cut down coach gun from the holster on Buckshot hip. The man slid the coach gun into his waistband, and took Buckshot by the arm.

“You got anythin’ else on you?” he asked.

“No,” Buckshot replied.

“Two-fingers,” the first man said, looking over at his partner, “you keep hold him, i'ma get the horses ready.”

“This ain’t what I was expectin’,” the second man said, looking over at Buckshot as they waited. “I hear’d you shot three men back in Dodge.That so?”

“It is,” Buckshot said. “But it was a fair fight and i'm thinking you aint got the whole story. If you don’t mind my asking, since I complied with your demand, for whose murder am I wanted?”

The second man stared hard at Buckshot for a long moment, as if deep in thought. “Well, I can’t say for sure, but the bounty was put up by a marshal back in Dodge City.”

At that instant, Buckshot brought his elbow up and smashing into the man’s face. The man teetered backward as his nose exploded in spray of blood. Buckshot's hand dropped and took hold of the coach gun tucked into the man’s waistband. He drew the gun and brought back the hammer in a blur of motion. He shot into the man once, then wheeled to face the doors in time to see first coming back through them.

Buck, keeping the gun point at the bigger man, made his way to the bar. leaning the elbow of his free arm on the top of the bar,the wood creaking under the mans great weight.The ragged strands of his clay red beard danced along the bar top.His haggard face,burnt by the sun and tanned by the sand.Many cracks and wrinkles in the mans faced made him seem beyond his years but his sapphire eyes shimmered with youth.His bald head bore the marks of many fights,some still fresh from the night before.

Sun bleached and rain washed cotton shirt rested on his shoulders,covering the barrel shaped body.A belt that had seen many better years and much more care strapped around his large waist,aiding in keeping the old canvas leggings up.The battered coach gun in his hand looking as in rough condition as him.He let out a tired sigh as he sat on the stool drawing up another revolver from the back of his belt.

"Some fool save this man from himself,so he don't end up like his friend."

 


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