PAINTED LADY SALOON - Gainesville, Texas - 1895
"What the hell you think you're doing with my man? You have no jurisdiction in this state!"
Bass looked at the shorter man and sized him up quickly…his experienced eyes went to Raff who stood almost shoulder to shoulder with his twin brother—their dark eyes burned back at him in similar disdain. Twin peacocks. Not ones to get their hands dirty. His eyes narrowed as he noted their crossdraw rigs with Colt Thunderers tucked under their frock coats.
"Now, you two boys run along and keep your noses out of my business. This here sorry-ass excuse for a man, done beat up a woman upstairs and he's going to jail…And just so you know, sweet-cheeks, the US on my badge stands for United States…I got jurisdiction anywhere I put my boots…from sea to shining sea."
Rafe's jaw muscles flexed visibly as he gritted his teeth. He could feel his brother's eyes as well as those of his men and several of the bar patrons bore into him. It was clearly his move and the noise level in the bar dropped significantly as many of the conversations stopped around them. Even the piano player noticed the confrontation and had stopped in the middle of his ragtime tune.
"Didn't you hear me, Nubian? I told you that's my man you are mistreating and I won't have it!"
Tobe, Jed and Selden made it to their feet and were already moving toward the front of the bar. Selden swept his dark gray frock coat back behind the bone-handled grip of his Single Action Army Colt.
"Son, I only warn once…you best step aside whilst you still have a chance," Bass said softly.
Rafe's temper boiled over. His right fist unclenched as his hand snaked across his midsection and wrapped around the bird'shead handle of the .41 Colt. Bass caught the motion and dropping Jake's clothes, his massive left hand whipped out—a black cobra striking in the blink of an eye. His fingers closed around Rafe's wrist like steel bands, immobilizing his arm while his right hand let go of the leg shackle chain dropping Jake's legs to the floor with a thud. Bass surprised the immobile shootist by slapping him three times in rapid succession—hard. Rafe's hat flew off with the second strike—a backhand—and tumbled to the filthy floor.
The bar fell deathly quiet as the big man pointed his index finger over at Raff. "Don't even think about it peacock…I'll kill you where you stand."
Raff's hand was frozen above his belt. He had never seen anyone as fast as Bass and his low, soft voice unnerved him. The burly lawman had not backed down like others the two gunfighters had bullied before. His jaw moved, but no words came forth. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of a pair of Remington shotgun hammers being brought to full cock.
"I understand you have a prisoner for me, Marshal."
Bass looked left and saw Loss flanking a tall, well muscled man wearing a bowler hat and the badge of the Cooke County Sheriff pinned to his vest, standing directly behind Raff. He lowered his hand back down beside his own Colt as he crunched the wrist bones of Rafe's shooting hand. He heard a slight involuntary moan from the embarrassed gunslinger as his Thunderer fell to the floor. He locked eyes with Rafe as he spoke.
"That's right, Sheriff. I was just explaining to these two upstanding citizens how this one behind me earned himself a little time in yer hoosegow." He let go of Rafe's wrist, but never took his eyes off him. "Kindly step aside, gents and let the good Sheriff Wacker take charge of his prisoner…Oh, I think you dropped somethin'," he said to Rafe as he pointed to the pistol on the floor.
Rafe looked behind Bass and saw the three other marshals that had moved in close to support Bass. He rubbed his right wrist to get the circulation flowing again, reached down, picked up his six-shooter and holstered it, then wiped the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.
"Some other time…some other place," he said to Bass in a low voice.
"Look forward to it…Don't forget your hat…looks like dandy one," Bass said as the twins turned back to the bar.
http://www.timbercreekpress.net/western.html
Release date for HAUNTED FALLS - June 18, 2013
"What the hell you think you're doing with my man? You have no jurisdiction in this state!"
Bass looked at the shorter man and sized him up quickly…his experienced eyes went to Raff who stood almost shoulder to shoulder with his twin brother—their dark eyes burned back at him in similar disdain. Twin peacocks. Not ones to get their hands dirty. His eyes narrowed as he noted their crossdraw rigs with Colt Thunderers tucked under their frock coats.
"Now, you two boys run along and keep your noses out of my business. This here sorry-ass excuse for a man, done beat up a woman upstairs and he's going to jail…And just so you know, sweet-cheeks, the US on my badge stands for United States…I got jurisdiction anywhere I put my boots…from sea to shining sea."
Rafe's jaw muscles flexed visibly as he gritted his teeth. He could feel his brother's eyes as well as those of his men and several of the bar patrons bore into him. It was clearly his move and the noise level in the bar dropped significantly as many of the conversations stopped around them. Even the piano player noticed the confrontation and had stopped in the middle of his ragtime tune.
"Didn't you hear me, Nubian? I told you that's my man you are mistreating and I won't have it!"
Tobe, Jed and Selden made it to their feet and were already moving toward the front of the bar. Selden swept his dark gray frock coat back behind the bone-handled grip of his Single Action Army Colt.
"Son, I only warn once…you best step aside whilst you still have a chance," Bass said softly.
Rafe's temper boiled over. His right fist unclenched as his hand snaked across his midsection and wrapped around the bird'shead handle of the .41 Colt. Bass caught the motion and dropping Jake's clothes, his massive left hand whipped out—a black cobra striking in the blink of an eye. His fingers closed around Rafe's wrist like steel bands, immobilizing his arm while his right hand let go of the leg shackle chain dropping Jake's legs to the floor with a thud. Bass surprised the immobile shootist by slapping him three times in rapid succession—hard. Rafe's hat flew off with the second strike—a backhand—and tumbled to the filthy floor.
The bar fell deathly quiet as the big man pointed his index finger over at Raff. "Don't even think about it peacock…I'll kill you where you stand."
Raff's hand was frozen above his belt. He had never seen anyone as fast as Bass and his low, soft voice unnerved him. The burly lawman had not backed down like others the two gunfighters had bullied before. His jaw moved, but no words came forth. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of a pair of Remington shotgun hammers being brought to full cock.
"I understand you have a prisoner for me, Marshal."
Bass looked left and saw Loss flanking a tall, well muscled man wearing a bowler hat and the badge of the Cooke County Sheriff pinned to his vest, standing directly behind Raff. He lowered his hand back down beside his own Colt as he crunched the wrist bones of Rafe's shooting hand. He heard a slight involuntary moan from the embarrassed gunslinger as his Thunderer fell to the floor. He locked eyes with Rafe as he spoke.
"That's right, Sheriff. I was just explaining to these two upstanding citizens how this one behind me earned himself a little time in yer hoosegow." He let go of Rafe's wrist, but never took his eyes off him. "Kindly step aside, gents and let the good Sheriff Wacker take charge of his prisoner…Oh, I think you dropped somethin'," he said to Rafe as he pointed to the pistol on the floor.
Rafe looked behind Bass and saw the three other marshals that had moved in close to support Bass. He rubbed his right wrist to get the circulation flowing again, reached down, picked up his six-shooter and holstered it, then wiped the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.
"Some other time…some other place," he said to Bass in a low voice.
"Look forward to it…Don't forget your hat…looks like dandy one," Bass said as the twins turned back to the bar.
http://www.timbercreekpress.net/western.html
Release date for HAUNTED FALLS - June 18, 2013
No comments:
Post a Comment