Bannerman the Enforcer 20 by Kirk Hamilton

Bannerman the Enforcer 20 by Kirk Hamilton

Author:Kirk Hamilton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: winchester rifle, the old west, colt 45, western ebooks, piccadilly publishing, western frontier fiction, leonard mears, kirk hamilton western writer, bannerman the enforcer series
Publisher: Piccadilly


Six – Promontory

By the time they reached Promontory, Yancey and Cato knew that Buck Harlan needed no one to ride herd on him. He was much more confident and practiced with his gun for a couple of hours each morning and night. He aimed to be a top man with a six-gun and he had a natural ability that was only enhanced by the constant practice.

“Along the way, they passed through a town called Gainsville, in the heart of the cattle country and crawling with cowboys. Yancey and Cato stabled the horses and went to find rooms for the night, while Harlan stopped off at a gunsmith’s to buy more ammunition for his guns. He used up a considerable amount in his practice sessions each day. The two agents were arguing with the hotel clerk over the price he quoted for three rooms when they heard gunshots from down the street. The clerk seemed unperturbed and said that it was nothing to worry about, likely just the cowboys cutting loose again. But Yancey could see Buck Harlan come backing out of the gunsmith’s shop with two grinning cowboys following, guns in their hands, shooting at Harlan’s boots and making him jump in the time-honored rangeland ‘Dude’s Dance’. The guns would explode and Harlan would leap wildly as the bullets slapped into the boardwalk or the street dust near his boots.

Yancey signaled to Cato and they hurried down to join the gathering crowd. Harlan’s face was stiff and his eyes were narrowed as he watched the two cowpokes, leaping when they fired but never taking his gaze from their faces. Then, maybe because they were a little drunk or maybe simply figured there was no harm in Harlan, the guns stopped firing.

Instantly, Harlan’s own gun was in his hand and firing, but not at the cowpokes’ boots. His first shot tore the empty gun from the redheaded cowpoke’s hand and the second did the same to the other man’s Colt. They shook numbed fingers and Harlan fired again. This shot flicked the lobe of the redhead’s left ear and blood spurted as he yelled and clapped a hand to the side of his head, staggering away. The second man turned to run and Harlan shot the heel off his right boot, the impact kicking the man’s leg out from under him and sending him sprawling. Harlan walked forward unhurriedly and the man rolled onto his back, cursing. Harlan leaned down and almost casually raked the foresight of his .45 across the man’s face, laying open the cheek. He whirled at a sound behind him, as the redhead, recovering somewhat, came wading in with upraised fists.

Harlan braced himself, met the charge and rammed the gun barrel hard into the man’s belly. The redhead gagged and started to double up, but Harlan grabbed his hair with his free hand and held him upright. Looking coldly into the man’s eyes, he hit him twice more in the mid-section with the gun barrel, then flung him onto the street where he lay moaning beside his companion.



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