The Skyland post. [volume] (West Jefferson, N.C.) 193?-1988, 1937-05-13

None of the three was new at the
deadly game; each used his own pet
tactics. McCrossen took his partners
advice. The three had talked twenty
yards apart. McCrossen and Reb-
stock dashed in from two sides of
the triangle to kill before Denison
could retreat.
In fact, retreat was out of the
thinking. Denison, caught between
the two men, was forced to divide
his fire. With blow stiging his left
arm, he jumped his horse past the
two, whirled, and came back out
side, with McCrossen shooting at
him fast. The maneuver of Denison's
put McCrossen into Rebstock's line
of fire
But hardly had Denison whirled
when he felt sickening blow in the
stomach from McCrossen's gun,
hardy ten yards away. He had been
crouching on his horses back and
was already stirrup-loose. He slid
off and rolled like cat toward the
brush. Rebstock saw the trick but,
forgetting that wounded man is
the most dangerous man, he yelled
and spurred straight at him.
The horse refused the smell of
blood. He SHE'D. Rebstock spurred
him. AS the horse reared, the feeble
light of the moon struck, for an in
slant, Rebstock's features. In that
instant Denison fired pointed blank
at him.
Fully expecting that McCrossen
would ride in to finish him, Denison
Tipped open the loading gate of his
gun instinctively, and punched out
the empty shells.
His head in a whirl, expecting
that any instant McCrossen would
be on him, Denison tried to reload.
Just as he got the cartridge into his
revolver, he caught the sound of
horses hoofs and then heard Bob
Scott calling.
Here, Bob," exclaimed Denison
from the brush. ''Look out for Nc
Crossen."
Scott slipped off his horse. "Mc-
Crossen won't bother for a while.
Are you hit, Bill?"
Il stopped coupe of slugs some
how. What about McCrossen?" he
asked irritably
Hes lynn over by the bridge. He
r,.2rts to talk to you, Bill"
"T7hat the hell does he want to
talk to me for?"
He asked ne to tell you he did.
You can't lose no time, Bill. Can you
:tand up?"
Twist a tourniquet around this
arm before l try it, Bob. Don't trust
McCrossen. Have you got his guns?
He'd like nothing better than anoth-
er crack at me-" muttered Denison,
staggering, with SCOTS help, to his
Feet.
'McCrossen's stripped clean," de-
Jared Scott. Hes dyin'. That's the
plain truth. Can't you make up your
mind to see what he wants?"
Go ahead. But give me my gun
md watch out" muttered Denison.
In the light of the moon, McCros-
sen, propped up by Frying Pan, re-
clined against the trunk of half
grown tree.
Here's Bill, Dave" Scott spoke
low and gently "You said you want
ed to speak to him."
eyes, Dave?" said Denison, halt
ingly.
I'm done Bill"
"Dave," exclaimed Denison. "I'm
sorry it had to end this way"
81 talked pretty rough tonight"
said McCrossen, brokenly, splitting
the blood out of his throat.
THAT'S all right, Dave"
Didn't really mean it all. You've
always shot square, Bill. If some
folks I've trained with had done
that way, I mightn't be here tonight.
| Bill, favor"
. GO on, Dave"
Give got an old-maid sister back
East. She's all I've got. I'd hate her
to know this come, rustlin', Bill"
It'll never be said, Dave"
LET it be straight-out fight, Bill
you know"
II know, Dave; I know. What's
her address,"
"In my trunk, Bill" murmured
McCrossen thickly. ''Promise?"
Il promise"
"Give me-your hand"