Trail of The Spirit War

            The four of them waited for us. After all, they had us out gunned so they thought they had nothin' to fear.

            "Howdy fellers," said the stocky young one, "Ya'll appear to be ridin' the same way we are, want to ride together?"

            Since both my friends looked at me, I reckon I was elected spokesman. "We would, Mister, but we have to be gettin' back to some folks we left behind us in a wagon. Seems they lost some money and we thought ya'll might have found it."

            He grinned and dropped his right hand down to his thigh, next to where he had what appeared to be a .31 caliber Navy Colt ridin' in a tied down holster. The grips looked well worn, so I knew it had seen some use, but whether he had used it, or others before him, I had no way of knowin'.

            "No Sir. I don't recollect findin' no money. Did you boys find any money?" He looked around at his friends, still wearin' that grin. They had stiffened when I first mentioned the folks in the wagon, but now they relaxed.

            "Naw, Red, I ain't found no money. How about you, Jim?" The one who spoke looked to be thirty or so and wore a dirty brown shirt covered by a greasy vest. His pistol was pulled to the front of his belt, and half covered by his ample belly.

            Jim, the other older one, chewed his cud for a minute, spat tobacco in the dirt at Buck's hooves, and sneered, "Nope, but if'n I had I don't reckon I'd give it to no piss-ant kid like you."

            I noticed the youngest one, maybe in his mid teens, easin' his horse back a little at a time. Since he carried no pistol, and his long gun was in the scabbard, I all but dismissed him. Besides, he looked plumb scared.

            "Seems we got us a problem then, fellers. Them folks described you real good, and even told us yore names." I stretched that just a mite. "I reckon we're gonna have to ask you to step down so we can search you and your saddlebags."

            "The hell, you say!" Red made a grab for his belted Colt, but mine come out way faster. Just as he started to lift it, I shot him dead center and he flopped backwards off his horse.

            I immediately turned my gun on Jim, who had his own out and raised toward Bud, and I pulled the trigger again. About the time I fired, I saw a red hole blossom on the right side of his rib cage, and then saw another one just below his heart as my bullet found it's mark. Me and Bud had shot at almost the same instant.

            The one in the dirty vest had taken a bullet from Leaping Deer before he could get his iron clear of his belly. In a heartbeat, and a cloud of smoke, it was over.

            I was real pleased that Buck had not moved a muscle, even with all the flame, noise, and smoke comin' from the guns around him. He wasn't the least bit skittish, and that made him even more valuable. A rock solid horse is a real find.

            The kid with the knife had not even twitched. I looked at him and he raised his

hands up beside his ears and stammered, "I… I got none of those folks money, Mister…

honest. I don't like what they been doin', but didn't know how to get away from 'em

without gettin' shot myself."

Thanks for your interest - this book is now available. For a signed copy, see the main page. Thanks for visiting, and best regards, Roger