From Bloody Kansas, by Chuck Martin, Originally published 1955--
"Damn the law!" the Texan bellowed. "You throw down on me and I'll wing you shore as hell!"
Sutton studied the man who'd raised him from boyhood. If he allowed old Crail to bluff him, every old mossyhorn in Dodge would flaunt his authority. They were a stubborn breed who would never admit that the advancing years had slowed them down.
Judge Jordan had explained that the new law was meant to protect older cattlemen bringing wealth to Dodge City. They carried large sums openly, and many had been robbed after collecting for their herds.
Sutton had listened attentively, but with doubt. He knew Texans and their love of independence. He also realized the wisdom of Judge Jordan's reasoning, and now was a good time to put that logic to a test. He looked straight at Creedon.
"Check your hardware at the desk, Crail," he repeated. "Did you ever know me to run away from trouble when it rode right up to meet me?"
Creedon's weathered face was convulsed. He went into a crouch, but even then a clash might have been averted. But a cackling laugh from another oldster goaded him on.
...
Creedon's right hand plunged for the gun. Sutton stared in amazement. One of Creedon's admonitions had been to never draw a gun unless you intended to use it.
Sutton came forward like a cat. Creedon's thumb was earing back the hammer when Sutton chopped his rocky right fist to the old cattleman's jaw. His left hand darted out and caught the falling hammer on his thumb, and he turned quickly to bring the old man's arm up over his shoulder.
Creedon's boots dragged as Sutton carried him into the lobby. Dollar-Sign Sibley watched without speaking, but Molly Jo Benton stepped from behind a pillar with scorn in her dark eyes.
Genre: Western
"Damn the law!" the Texan bellowed. "You throw down on me and I'll wing you shore as hell!"
Sutton studied the man who'd raised him from boyhood. If he allowed old Crail to bluff him, every old mossyhorn in Dodge would flaunt his authority. They were a stubborn breed who would never admit that the advancing years had slowed them down.
Judge Jordan had explained that the new law was meant to protect older cattlemen bringing wealth to Dodge City. They carried large sums openly, and many had been robbed after collecting for their herds.
Sutton had listened attentively, but with doubt. He knew Texans and their love of independence. He also realized the wisdom of Judge Jordan's reasoning, and now was a good time to put that logic to a test. He looked straight at Creedon.
"Check your hardware at the desk, Crail," he repeated. "Did you ever know me to run away from trouble when it rode right up to meet me?"
Creedon's weathered face was convulsed. He went into a crouch, but even then a clash might have been averted. But a cackling laugh from another oldster goaded him on.
...
Creedon's right hand plunged for the gun. Sutton stared in amazement. One of Creedon's admonitions had been to never draw a gun unless you intended to use it.
Sutton came forward like a cat. Creedon's thumb was earing back the hammer when Sutton chopped his rocky right fist to the old cattleman's jaw. His left hand darted out and caught the falling hammer on his thumb, and he turned quickly to bring the old man's arm up over his shoulder.
Creedon's boots dragged as Sutton carried him into the lobby. Dollar-Sign Sibley watched without speaking, but Molly Jo Benton stepped from behind a pillar with scorn in her dark eyes.
Genre: Western
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