reversing it as he did so, and brought the butt crashing down on Culley’s skull. Bo didn’t hold back, figuring that Culley was one hardheaded son of a gun. The blow landed with a heavy
Culley just shook his head and kept squeezing.
Bo hit him again, and this time Culley’s grip relaxed a little. It took a third wallop, though, before the baby bull finally let go. Scratch slipped out of the bone-crushing, suffocating embrace and slumped against the adobe wall of the building, his chest rising and falling violently as he tried to drag air back into lungs that were starved for it.
Culley swung around ponderously toward Bo. His little piglike eyes still glittered with fury, but they glazed over as he took a step forward. The damage he had taken finally soaked all the way into his brain, and he pitched forward to land at Bo’s feet, out cold.
Bo stepped over to Scratch and put a steadying hand on his friend’s arm. “You all right?” he asked.
Scratch managed a shaky nod. “I…I will be…once I…catch my breath.”
“Hey!” That was Dave Sutherland again. “You can’t do that!”
Bo turned toward the young man and saw that Dave seemed more sober now. Seeing his two friends being defeated like that must have gotten to him. Culley was unconscious, and Angus was curled up in a ball on the ground. He had stopped screaming, but was still whimpering pathetically.
Furious, Dave reached for the gun holstered on his hip. Before he could even touch it, Bo’s Colt had flipped around again so that his hand was curled around the walnut grips and he had a finger on the trigger. The barrel was centered on the young man’s chest.
“Don’t do it, Dave,” Bo said in a quiet, solemn tone. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I won’t stand here and let you shoot me or Scratch either.”
Dave stared at him, taken by surprise yet again. Clearly he hadn’t expected Bo to react so swiftly. His hand hovered over the butt of his gun as he visibly struggled with the decision of what to do next.
He was saved from having to make it by the sharp, angry voice that cut through the air. “Mr. Creel! What are you doing threatening my son?”
PINNACLE BOOKS are published by
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Copyright © 2008 William W. Johnstone
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
Following the death of William W. Johnstone, the Johnstone family is working with a carefully selected writer to organize and complete Mr. Johnstone’s outlines and many unfinished manuscripts to create additional novels in all of his series like The Last Gunfighter, Mountain Man, and Eagles, among others. This novel was inspired by Mr. Johnstone’s superb storytelling.
PINNACLE BOOKS and the Pinnacle logo are Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 0-7860-2072-5
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