Slade's huge black stallion, Stokely, carried him rapidiy up
Winding Bluff Road toward the sinister fire glow on the horizon.
As he rode, a grim determination settled over him like warm
butter. To find Sam Columbine and put a crimp in his style!
When he arrived at Sandra Dawson's Bar-T ranch the bunkhouse
was a red ball of flame. And standing in front of it, laughing evilly,
were three of Sam Columbine's gunmen--Sunrise Jackson, Shifty
Jack Mulloy, and Doc Logan. Doc Logan himseif was rumored to
have sent twelve sheep-ranchers to Boot Hill in the bloody
Abeliene range war. But at that time Slade had been spending his
days in a beautiful daze with his one true love, Miss Polly
Peachtree of Paduka, Illinois. She had since been killed in a
dreadful accident, and now Slade was cold steel and hot blood -
not to mention his silk underwear with the pretty blue flowers.
He climbed down from his stallion and pulled one of his famous
Mexican cigars from his pocket. 'What're you boys doin' here?'
He asked calmly.
'Havin' a little clambake!' Sunrise Jackson said, dropping one
hand to the butt of his sinister.50 caliber horse-pistoL 'Maw, haw-,
haw!',
A wounded cowpoke ran out of the red-flickering shadows. 'They
put fire to the bunkhouse!' He said. 'That one--' he pointed at Doc
Logan--'said they wuz doin'it on the orders of that murderin' skunk
Sam Columbine!'
Doc Logan pulled leather and blew three new holes in the
wounded cowpoke, who flopped. 'Thought he looked hot from all
that fire,' Doc told Slade, 'so I ventilated him. Haw','haw,haw!'
'You can always tell a low murderin' puckerbelly by the way he
laughs,'Slade said, dropping his hands over the butts of his
sinister.45s.
'Is that right?' Doe said. 'How do they laugh?'
'Haw, haw, haw,' Slade gritted.
'Pull leather, you Republican skunk!' Shifty Jack Mulloy
yelled, and went for his gun, Slade yanked both of his
sinister.45s out in a smooth sweep and blasted Shifty Jack
before Mulloy's
piece had even cleared leather. Sunrise Jackson was already
blasting away, and Slade felt a bullet shave by his temple. Slade hit
the dirt and let Jackson have it. He took two steps backward and
fell over, dead as a turtle with smallpox.
But Doc Logan was running. He vaulted into the saddle of an
Indian pony with a shifty eye and slapped its flank. Slade squeezed
off two shots at him, but the light was tricky, Logan's pony jumped
the shakepole fence and was gone into the darkness - to report back
to Sam Columbine, no doubt.
Slade walked over to Sunrise Jackson and rolled him over with his
boot. Jackson had a hole right between the eyes. Then he went over
to Shifty Jack Mulloy, who was gasping his last.
'You got me, Pard!' Shifty Jack gasped. 'I feel worse'n a turtle
