Showdown - Two Bit Westerns-Eli Stone, #3 - E-book - ePub

Deaf to her, to what remained of the crowd parting like the Red Sea, in a quarter-turn, I faced a skinny teenaged boy dressed in buckskin, not six feet tall or twenty feet away, narrow shoulders, mismatched guns holstered over slim hips. Underfed. A swift scan of the roof of the black marble building caught the crown of a hat floating just above the rim. Now I frowned, squinting one eye. "Ain't gonna yell draw, are you?""You tell 'em, Clint, " somebody shouted.
Even I had to grin at that. Sporadic laughter from the crowd faded to dead silence, the young man wrinkling his nose into a baby's scowl, obviously too young for the joke."Calling you out, " he said, arrogantly raising his pointy chin. "Heard you're the man from up north.""I'm from out west originally, " I replied. Somebody snickered lightly nearby, but I wasn't looking away. The boy put his face into that baby scowl again.
"Ain't you the one kilt my brother?""And which one was that?""Shank, " the boy said, his hands drifting to the butts of his guns. "Shank was my big brother."A wink from that rooftop, I slapped my hip and fired. A yelp like a battered pup, Shank's little brother spun to look. A body met the ground with a meaty thud raising a cloud of dust, leather hat seesawed after. His shiny weapon just a puff of dirt close by.
Hands on his guns, Shank's little brother whirled to my leveled revolver, smoke trailing yet from the muzzle."Even I ain't that fast, kid, " I said.