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Updated: July 2, 2025
He saw the bright vision of a small fortune placed in his hands as the result of a single gunplay. He had seen the schoolteacher. He knew by instinct that there was no fighting quality in Jig. And the moment he heard the location it was as good as cash in his pocket, he was sure. There was only one difficulty. He must beat out the sheriff.
Do you want me to invite him to leave?" "Something I don't care what!" "Neither do I. But I can't insult the fool. That type resents an insult with gunplay. We must simply keep them apart. Keep the sheriff from talking." "Keep rain from falling!" groaned Elizabeth. "Vance, if you won't do anything, I'll go and tell the sheriff that he must leave!" "You don't mean it!"
He pulled back the lapel of his coat, and the land-grabber saw the butt of a gun nestling under his left arm. From his inner coat pocket Bob drew a cylindrical roll of paper about eight inches long. Carey eyed him scornfully. "This is the city of Los Angeles, my friend, not the open desert at Garlock. A gunplay would be most ill-advised, I assure you."
"But get him out of the jail, Jude, and that will be ended. He'll be your friend." "Could I trust him?" "Don't you think Riley Sinclair is a man to be trusted?" "I dunno." He lowered his eyes. "Maybe he is." "As for Arizona," she went on, "the same thing holds for him." "Yes; if I could get one out, I could get two. But how can I do it? This Sheriff Kern is a fighting idiot, and loves a gunplay.
He checked that temptation. In the first place it would be impossible to convince five men who had already made up their minds, who had already acquitted Sinclair of the guilt. In the second place, if he succeeded in convincing them, there would be an instant gunplay, and the first man to come under Sinclair's fire, he knew well enough, would be himself. He drew a long breath and waited.
"Oh rats. Not that it isn't very decent of you, Ollie, it is and you'd do it but I wouldn't even be a person to let you " They were both on their feet, talking in jerks, ears strained for every sound from that other room. "It's perfectly simple nobody's going to pull any gunplay good Lord, imagine poor old Mr.
"The girl's a favorite. You ruffled her vanity ... you see. That's Benton. If you had happened to be alone you would have had gunplay. Be careful after this." "But I didn't flirt with her," protested Neale. "I only looked at her curiously, of course. And I said I wouldn't dance." Hough laughed. "You're young in Benton.
I wonder how many coolies Ku Sui had, altogether? Fourteen or fifteen were killed when we broke through the dome, before, and now these three. There surely can't be many left. Of course, there are the four white men, his surgical assistants." Ban Wilson spoke after what was for him a long silence. He had watched the Hawk's gunplay with an awe-stricken face; its speed never failed to amaze him.
He was still more irritated by the display of fine riding. For horsemanship and clever gunplay were the two main feathers in the cap of Slim Dugan. He had thrown the stone simply to test the qualities of this new member of the gang; the snapshot had stunned him. So he glanced at his companions. If they smiled, it meant that they took the matter lightly.
He was mortally in terror of something more than physical death, and, like the cornered rat, he felt a sudden urge to go out and meet the danger halfway. A dozen pictures came to him of Sinclair slipping into the town under cover of the night, of the stealthy approach, of the gunplay that would follow.
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