Amelia Rankin by Charles O. Locke

Author:Charles O. Locke
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781504011747
Publisher: Open Road Media

III

December

There were seven stones on the top of a corral fence rail, the two highest rails having been removed. The stones were about as big and not much harder than the preserved crabapples Amelia’s sister sent her in jars from Indiana once a year.

About thirty yards back from the stones, Willy Patchem, with the same Colt he had laid in Amelia’s lap, drew a bead on the stone farthest to the left, then slid the pistol into the holster. He laid a dollar bill on a stone and Shep Conklin laid a dollar bill on top of it.

“You runnin’ out of dollar bills?”

Shep rubbed his chin. “I got a few more. Just keep in mind we gotta make change later on, because the second round you failed to make a perfect score.”

“Who’s perfect? You got two bits coming back to you?”

“No, four bits.”

“Okay, I got change.”

“I got change, Willy,” said Bill Snow, who was standing in a relaxed attitude with folded arms. Someone called to Snow from the bunkhouse and he replied with irritation that he’d be there soon. “I heard tell about this, but I gotta see it,” he grinned at Conklin.

Troop, the Mexican chore boy, whose devotion to Willy was almost worship and who was proudly wearing a pair of Willy’s cast-off boots, drew near and Jess Albright and a few other hands drifted down from the bunkhouse. Snow, as Willy spun his pistol, which he had drawn again, saw Amelia at the dining-room window and waved to her.

Willy begged Snow’s pistol from him.

“Just to show there’s no magic in this, just a man of superior ability developed by born-in skill and careful practice.”

“Wow,” said Snow.

Willy dangled Snow’s pistol carelessly in his left hand, after returning his own gun to its hipped position.

Snow raised his hand and let it fall.

Amelia saw the right hand and arm of Willy flashing like the foreleg of a running horse. With a return and draw at each shot, the stones were flecked off the fence rail, the timing of the shots as perfect as the ticking of a clock.

The seventh stone remained. Willy holstered his gun, shifted Snow’s Colt from the left to right hand and fired quickly. The stone stayed where it was.

“Get your gun fixed,” said Willy disgustedly, handing Snow’s pistol back to him. With catlike quickness, he picked up both dollar bills and returned one to Shep. “Snow with his rusty piece has made it impossible for me as a gentleman to take your money.”

He got out some silver. “And here is the four bits I owed you back on the first round. If I stayed around here for long with that range boss of Amelia’s, he’d have me in the poorhouse.” He handed Snow’s quarter to him. “What’d you do? File the sights crooked?”

Snow was laughing. “Just careless, Willy. No put-up job, honest. If I ever need a range hand to clean up a prairie-dog piece like you could, I’ll be sending for you.”

Willy licked his lips. “I don’t shoot nothing small and cute.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.