The Last Dance

[EE Taft]

The bunch of crude lawmen rode into the canyon just before dawn. they tied off the horses and made their way toward the cabin to see of the situation. Taft and Bud moved to the front of the group to peek around the rock face and get a clear view of where the horses were tied........

 

"Bud, you think you can slip in and cut those horses lose without bein' seen?" Taft whispers. Bud turned to Taft and gave him smile and slipped off into the dark. In what seemed like only seconds a string of horses led by Bud moved silently out of the gap and off behind the bunch. Taft follows back to the rest of the men.

 

"Taft, you and Badger get up to the ridge with yer rifles. Badger You get a view of the front,and Taft you get in the back so they don't slip out and up the wash. Stay low."

 

Hatfield speaks up, "I'll sit down here and watch the mouth of the gap if they come this way. I'd say Bud and those Shawnees can slip in and get the girls lose before we commence, but we'll want to keep an eye on things as they do."

 

The men scattered to take position. Taft found a good spot to perch and laid out his '66 and '73 in easy reach then checked his revolvers to see that they were at the ready. He grabbed up the '73 and waited, watching the cabin. From his vantage he sees Bud and the Shawnee dart out to the mouth of the canyon with the girls in tow. Just then he hears the cabin door smack open and a shotgun blast into the darkness as the sun peeks up over the ridge spilling light across the situation. Men from the cabin begin to scatter in every direction.

 

Taft Watches for a split second at the events unfolding until he sees Badger rise and fire down on the outlaws. Taft picks up the rifle and begins firing. one after another falls as the group unloads. Soon the outlaws fall back to the cabin and begin to make their way out the back and up the wash. Without any words Taft begins to fire into the wash dropping two of the men as others make their way past the hail of shots. Taft stands to see over the edge and gets another man..........

 

.......Then a shot rings out from the wash hitting Taft from a low angle just below the ribs and penetrating up into a lung. The pain hits him and he falls in a somersault and landing on his back sliding down the embankment towards the assassin. In

a muddled thought as he slides he pulls his revolver and guns down the outlaw.

 

Many of the outlaws had been taken and few including Brown had made it out of the wash to high ground to make a get away on foot.

 

Bud and Hatfield make their way behind the cabin to find Taft clinging to life.

 

Bud leans down to Taft, "How Bad?" he asks.

 

"Bad" Choked Taft.

 

Hatfield kneels and goes to work patching up the man. "I'll get 'cha fixed up, just hang on!" He says firmly.

 

"Naw" says Taft, "I'm tired......tired of all this runnin'."

 

"What do you want?" Asks Bud, as if to know his final wishes.

 

Taft looks up at Bud, "When I'm gone, just take me back to that stand of trees at the mouth of the canyon and bury me. Get word to my wife and check in on her and the kids from time to time.......Ya might see if ya can help her get back up to Missouri to her family."

 

Taft looks up into the now blinding light above him at the top of the canyon. He sees the Raven flying over him in a gentle loop past the lip of the canyon out of sight then back again..........

 

"That damn bird." Taft whispers, "He's the smartest one of us all."

 

Bud and Hatfield carry the corpse of their friend out to the point where the rest of the men stand......

 

Badger came down to the place where they had gathered. "They ran off in that direction!"He said nearly out of breath.

 

Hatfield looked to Bud both with the same thought in their mind. Bud says, "Let's go get them bastards!"

 

...............................................................................................................................

 

~EE~

[Yellowhouse Sam # 25171]

Flint yelled out"Don't go rushing in there like fools boys, them skunks have plenty of teeth and we got time to think this out!"

 

We carried Taft over on the porch and laid him out gently. "Damn, Taft sure took some with him didn't he?

 

"That he did Bud", answered a saddened Badger. "Hell, all of us were in kinda of a shock and that leads to not thinking straight. That will get you dead as a stump."

 

Ottertail and his sons who were inside overheard and came out on the porch with hell in his eyes. "Rape youngest to death--she only thirteen. Other daughter and wife used bad but will make it. Glancing around, he appraised the terrain, "You marshals maybe take high ground. My sons and I will flush them out like rabbits."

 

Hatfield and I stayed where we were to guard the women and prevent any backtrailing on Browns part. Flint and Badger grabbed their Sharps and immediately headed for opposite sides of the little feeder canyon while the Shawnee darted through the brush. They were stripped for war and carried borrowed pistols taken from the dead outlaws. Still the knives and war axes shown prominently as they swiftly and methodically scouted the brushy draw.

 

Flints 44 Sharps bellowed followed by the roar of Badgers 50. Howls of pain reached our ears, "Dammit, who in hell are you anyway? Lawdogs? Don't shoot no more, one of you put a hole through my laig and I'm bleed like a stuck pig."

 

Badger shouted, "Shuck them pistols where I can see em then hold yore hands so high they'll put a flagpole to shame." Finis Brown did as he was told.

 

Elmore Brown wasn't as lucky cause Flint had drilled a hole through him a rabbit could run through.

 

Then the most awful screechin sound ever heard grated on our ears. The Shawnee had hit Two Fingers Paxton Brown from his blindside. One wollop with the side of a war axe took him to his knees. Disarmed, they brought him screaming and cursing back to the cabin, "By gawd you are lawdogs of Parkers no doubt. You ain't gonna live two seconds when the rest of the bunch comes ridin in from Black Mesa."

 

Flint shrugged,"Let em come. You'll either be dead by then or long on your way to be sized up by ole George Maledon for a proper neck stretchin."

 

"What you mean dead? Me and Finis here you got to take in. Hell, we all know out here in the bush that Parker frowns on you lawdogs taking the law inta yer own hands!" He laughed maliciously because it was a long way to Ft. Smith and a lot of evil things could happen, and often did, to marshals trying to deliver the goods to Parkers court. "Besides, them women come along of their own accord. Yep, one look at ole Finis and me and they just jumped up behind on our horses and come right along for some fun. Queersome, that youngun up and died--musta been ague or somethin and sure made Finis sad. Believe he was pretty sweet on er."

 

Thought Flint was gonna blow his brains out right there when Hatfield could take no more, "Why you bucket of buzzard puke, I'll.....!" Too late, cause a very haggard and red-eyed woman had just knocked him cross-eyed with a fryin pan and was tryin to snatch a bowie knife out of Hatfields belt to finish the job.

 

Bud leaned over and splashed some water on Paxton who began to stir, "You didn't kill my uncle personally but your filthy compadres sure got it done and its all on your head. Several of us here got a real problem with you and your sorry butts livin a second longer. Hellfire, think I heard the scratch of a pen when Jesus just scratched you off the list."

 

Screechin like banshees met our ears. Finis was floppin around like a chicken with his neck wrung cept he still had his head but no arms. Blood was spewin everywhere like a firehose. Those boys of Ottertail's knew english pretty good and figured right quick that Finis was most perverted of the bunch. Badger later told us that his granpappy had been in the Indian wars back east and that those woodland indians could walk up to a captive and disjoint them in a flash, stop the bleeding, and torture those pore souls for hours on end. Finis, already scared and weak from the big bullet wound, just keeled over and died.

 

"Okay Brown, that was just a warmup exercise. What you think would happen if we turned you over to these Shawnee...or worse yet let Hatfield join in?" Inside I was sick at the gore but the need to see this trash get their due overode any sense of civility. Especially toward this final piece of trash staring up at us from the ground. A dung heap that woulda better served mankind if his mammy had just knocked him in the head at birth.

 

Hatfield had cooled down to consider who had the dibs on this lowlife and asked "Guess someone needs to make a call here. What say you?"

 

The answer was profound and final. No sooner had Hatfield uttered the last word when the raven hovered above and hesitated. Then raining down like a bullet through a trued gun barrel, a blob of raven crap hit Paxton Brown right between the eyes. Sure enuff a sign for any observant person.

 

Before anyone could react, Ottertails wife jerked her husbands pistol and blasted ole Two Fingered Paxton Brown into the pits of hell. Yep, right in the same place where Raven had deposited his own load.

 

The raven squawked loudly overhead, made a wide loop, and flew southward in the direction of central Texas. Bud knowingly shook his head "Fellers, I'll be seeing you down the trail somewhere, sometime. You've been fine amigoes and I owe you a lot of gratitude. Any rewards or money left on those owlhoots we left here today, give my part to Ottertail and to Tafts wife. Fact is Flint, would appreciate that she never worry about financial doins. Just please take care of it and send me a bill. Sam would want it that way.

 

The raven's raucous cry echoed again and Bud followed. It was as if only the raven knew when the Last Dance began----or ended.

[Yellowhouse Sam # 25171]

Jeez....complete silence!!!!

 

Just because Taft didn't duck fast enough and Bud rode south don't mean there's not room for a continuance here. Taft or Bud might have a relative show up looking for them. Flint might reunite with a lady friend who secretly wants revenge for a past slight. Shoot ole Flyn " Stranger" might even want a boxing rematch! Hatfield might take on a determined and fulltime role as U.S. Marshal.

 

Badger might meet up with a traveling naturalist/sportsman and become intrigued with fly fishing. Hey, I'm serious....it could happen! And it must have!

 

A complete stranger could even appear on the scene.

[Deja Vous]

Deja, seeing her brother Ee's dead mourned the loss. She took her long braided hair, and cut the braid off as the other women cried.. It was tradition, as was cutthing some of his hair to save and burn later .. Just as her knife was about to chopped of the yard lengh of hair.....................

 

 

[Yellowhouse Sam # 25171]

Deja, seeing her brother Ee's dead mourned the loss. She took her long braided hair, and cut the braid off as the other women cried.. It was tradition, as was cutthing some of his hair to save and burn later .. Just as her knife was about to chopped of the yard lengh of hair.....................

 

Uh-oh!

[Deja Vous]

Uh-oh!

 

 

What.. I am trying to give you a new starting point here.. lol...

[Yellowhouse Sam # 25171]

What.. I am trying to give you a new starting point here.. lol...

 

A yard length of hair? Deja, I just don't know where to begin.

 

Okay, you cut off a yard of hair.....I heretofore retract all previous tacky jabs....for the meantime. Sometimes I get really lost so apologize for gaffe!

 

Deja has led the pack...does she have blood in her eyes? Will she seek vengeance for all peoples named Brown? Read on!

[EE Taft]

Sorry..........I was just starting to enjoy my (eternal) break...........

 

 

That, and I was basking in that fine piece of writin' that ya done.

 

I'll be back to write some more maybe tomorrow night. Gots ta git ta bed, for in the mornin' before I'm off to work I call to seal the deal on my new '73 finally.

 

Happy as a pig in sh!t!

 

Keep 'er goin' boys!!!!!!!

 

~EE Taft~

[Blackwater 53393]

Ain't done yet, just have been tied up too much to put on more than a blurb. Probably be back for a while tomorrow!

[Yellowhouse Sam # 25171]

Well, y'all are gonna have your hat full when the rest of Browns gang rides in from the Black Mesa country.

[Blackwater 53393]

Badger and Hatfield collected the weapons that had belonged to the outlaws. While the two young Shawnee braves helped Flint with Taft's body.

 

Ottertail nodded as the two boys rejoined him, "That good man, have much iron. Young ones help you now. I go to take woman, daughter home."

 

"There's more of these hombres out there," Flint began, "and I'm lookin to plant 'em or take 'em to Judge Parker. There's reward money for these dead ones and I'll see to it you get a share, you and your sons."

 

"They kin have my share," Hatfield added. "Seein' 'em dead is reward enough for me. I thank you Ottertail, for helpin' put these hombres down."

 

The Shawnee said nothing, but turned to his sons who followed him to where the women waited. Flint, Badger, and Hatfield took Taft to the mouth of the canyon and made a grave they thought would mark his passing well. "We can find him later if we have to," Badger muttered. "Flint, you've got a way with words an' I got a book. You read over ol' Taft fer us, huh?"

 

When the three lawmen had finished with the burial, they rode back to the cabin. "Hey Badger, we still got that dynamite," Hatfield brightened a little, "you reckon we could put some charges under that shack an' maybe send a few more of these peckerwoods ta' hell?"

 

A broad smile spread slowly across Badger's face. "Now that's the kinda' thinkin' that could even the odds a mite fer us."

 

Just then the two young Shawnee appeared from around the side of the canyon. The older of the two walked directly up to the three lawmen. "Ottertail say we go with you, make bad ones pay for what they did to his woman and my sisters. You give us guns and cartridge."

 

"You boys know how to shoot?" Flint asked, a little skepticaly.

 

"We shoot." the young one replied. "Ottertail showed us how. I can use a rifle or pistol, and so can my brother. We have both used cartridge guns before."

 

"Badger, give 'em both a couple of them outlaw's rigs," Flint smiled coldly.

 

"I don't reckon ol' Double E. would mind these young braves usin' his rifles fer now." Hatfield said to the other two. "What do you fellers think?"

 

When the Shawnee braves had been outfitted with guns and ammunition, the five men moved off to the rim of the canyon. Badger and Hatfield moved the dynamite to the canyon floor and rigged the cabin, stringing fuse back to their vantage point overlooking the low ground.

 

The two boys drug away the outlaws bodies and hid them where the marshals could take their heads later to collect the rewards.

 

Hatfield moved down the canyon to a place where he would have the best field of fire and still have satisfactory cover. Soon he returned to where the others had set up camp. "Where's Badger?" he asked, seeing only Flint and the younger Indian brave.

 

"Said he was gonna' fix up a surprise or two for them lowlifes," Flint chuckled. "He walked off with another half dozen or so sticks of dynamite."

 

"My brother watches the trail for our enemies. He will not be seen and I will take his place later," the Shawnee brave explained. "There is coffee and some rabbit to eat. We will put out the fire before sun goes down."

 

"If anything happens to me, you'll find a gunny sack with them hombre's heads in it over by that cottonwood tree," Flint pointed. "Get 'em to Judge Parker in Ft. Smith 'n' he'll see the money gets to where it's s'posed to."

 

"You mind your topknot Bubba. We've already lost too many."

 

"I don't aim to let these yahoos put out my wick. I'll see them all in hell 'fore my time is done," Flint smiled again and began to sharpen his big Bowie.

 

Hatfield squatted next to the tiny fire and poured a cup of coffee. He drew his own knife and skewered a piece of the smoking rabbit meat. "When you're through there, let me borrow that Arkansas stone. This here toothpick could use a little honin' if you don't care."

[Yellowhouse Sam # 25171]

An unnoticed runner from Red Rock Canyon had thrashed his nag hard to intercept Marsh Willis and his menagarie of cut throat thieves riding back from Black Mesa.

 

"Tha hell ya say!", roared Marsh. "So Paxton and his own got turned into worm food...well I'll be go to hell and back. Only means one thing boys, thats more money to split up and we get to kill us a bunch of lawdogs to boot! So lets study this a mite and make sure we don't wind up as buzzard bait ourselves. Think I got a plan in mind that'll set em back on their hunkers and make em squeal like shoats at killing time!"

 

"So tell me again Tater, you say this here raven sh!t rat on ma cousins haid--kinda like a 10x on a target? Woulda like to seen that. Kinda spooky in a way but thats the way it is sometimes." Marsh grinned, then methodically pulled his gear up and began to start reloading rounds for his target grade Sharps.

 

Yessir! Willis Marsh was not the fool that his cousin, the infamous and deceased Paxton Brown, was in any form or fashion. If anything, Paxton couldn't have kept Willis Marsh boots polished. For another, Willis was not one to let wanton lust of the flesh cloud his thinking or actions thereof and that made him doubly dangerous. Plus, his skill at long range markmanship elevated him to pure poison in anyones book!

 

Marsh Willis would eventually make Judge Parker madder than a rat caught in a trap without cheese.

[Deja Vous]

An unnoticed runner from Red Rock Canyon had thrashed his nag hard to intercept Marsh Willis and his menagarie of cut throat thieves riding back from Black Mesa.

 

"Tha hell ya say!", roared Marsh. "So Paxton and his own got turned into worm food...well I'll be go to hell and back. Only means one thing boys, thats more money to split up and we get to kill us a bunch of lawdogs to boot! So lets study this a mite and make sure we don't wind up as buzzard bait ourselves. Think I got a plan in mind that'll set em back on their hunkers and make em squeal like shoats at killing time!"

 

"So tell me again Tater, you say this here raven sh!t rat on ma cousins haid--kinda like a 10x on a target? Woulda like to seen that. Kinda spooky in a way but thats the way it is sometimes." Marsh grinned, then methodically pulled his gear up and began to start reloading rounds for his target grade Sharps.

 

Yessir! Willis Marsh was not the fool that his cousin, the infamous and deceased Paxton Brown, was in any form or fashion. If anything, Paxton couldn't have kept Willis Marsh boots polished. For another, Willis was not one to let wanton lust of the flesh cloud his thinking or actions thereof and that made him doubly dangerous. Plus, his skill at long range markmanship elevated him to pure poison in anyones book!

 

Marsh Willis would eventually make Judge Parker madder than a rat caught in a trap without cheese.

 

 

sorry to interrrupt to btt.. lol.. But Rat would never be caught in a trap.. cuz I give he chees..

[Yellowhouse Sam # 25171]

The dogs I've had all love cheeze but you gotta go light if they aren't active. Had a dachshund that lived 16 years. He only got treats such as fatty meat, cheese, eggs, etc on occasion. His littermate, was regularly fed cheese, gravy,you name it, lasted eight. Kinda like us I guess.

[Yellowhouse Sam # 25171]

Bud reined up at Red River Station. Didn't fully understand the urgency but he dismounted, walked to the shade of a cottonwood, knelt down, and prayed like he'd never done before for his friend Taft.

[Blackwater 53393]

Dan Painthorse watched as the gang of hardened outlaws rode into the wash. He counted seventeen heavily armed men strung out at short intervals, riding two and sometimes three abreast. Dan had come about five miles on horseback and walked several hundred feet to the edge of the wash, leaving his horse tied out of sight. The outlaws seemed to ride with purpose, but with no urgency.

 

The young Shawnee brave backed away from the low canyon rim and moved silently to his horse. Leading the animal cautiously away, he put some distance between himself and the outlaws before mounting the horse. "I must warn the others," he said to himself. Keeping to soft ground he urged the horse into a lope and then into a gallop back toward the cabin and his allies.

 

Painthorse found the place where he had climbed out of the wash and sent his mount swiftly down the narrow trail. He pounded toward the camp, looking for his brother and his new partners who rose to meet him as he charged out of the wash.

 

"I saw many men riding this way," Dan told his brother and the three lawmen.

 

"How many?" Flint demanded, "and how far away are they?"

 

"I count seventeen. They are four or five miles away and they ride slow like they look for trouble."

 

The men exchanged looks among themselves. Some shook their heads. Others nodded, thinking their own hard thoughts. "We all know what we've gotta' do. I 'spect we'd better get to our spots and get under cover," Badger spoke up.

 

"Let 'em get to the cabin. The more of 'em that gets inside the better," Flint advised. "Nobody shoots or shows themselves 'til Badger springs his little surprise."

 

"I buried the fuse, so most of 'em won't see it 'til it's too late," Badger explained. "It's fast fuse. Y'all be ready!"

 

The five men exchanged one final glance and headed to their positions.

 

"This is for Double E. 'n' Sam," Hatfield said quietly to the others as they turned to go. To himself he thought, "And for Willow and that Shawnee girl."

[J. Mark Flint #31954 LIFE]

"Boys, one last thing."

 

I pulled a flask out and opened it pouring a stiff shot on the ground and handed it to Hatfield.

 

"Do as I've done, and don't get a drop on yourself. Pass it around boys, it just might make a difference."

 

Hatfield did as asked and passed the flask to Bud, who immediately inquired as to why we were wasting good whisky."

 

I grinned "Very carefully now Bud take a whiff of that flask, but only enough to get the scent, no more."

 

Bud did as I asked and suddenly began tearing up "What in the world is that?"

 

"Nothing of this world Bud, but an offering to the next that we may be passed by. Death will be here soon, he should know that we are his . . . allies if not exactly friends."

 

Each man did as bid and we turned to the task at hand.

[Warhorse]

Standing well off from the camp and in deep shadow, a man dressed all in black watched the little ceremony with the "whiskey" and smiled.

 

Then he was gone.

[EE Taft]

Bud reined up at Red River Station. Didn't fully understand the urgency but he dismounted, walked to the shade of a cottonwood, knelt down, and prayed like he'd never done before for his friend Taft.

 

Thank you, Sam.

[Blackwater 53393]

The manhunters scattered and took up their positions. Badger took out a small metal cylinder and unscrewed the cap. He counted out a half dozen lucifer matches and examined them carefully. "This'll get it done," he thought to himself.

 

Israel War Pony exchanced words quietly with his younger brother before the two separated, moving to opposite sides of the wash. He then scouted along the ridge to a point well forward of the rest. War Pony hoped to be where he could catch a glimpse of the outlaws early in case they split up, or drop in behind them to seal off any retreat. He wouldn't have to wait long.

 

When the riders came into view he took a quick count. "Only sixteen. Damn!" he muttered under his breath. He looked carefully down his side of the rim to avoid being surprised by that last rider. Seeing no movement on his side he quickly scanned the other. "There!" Just topping out on a deer trail on the other side was a man leading a horse and carrying a large rifle.

 

Marsh Willis was headed directly to where Dan was waiting. Israel's heart skipped a beat then began pounding furiously. How could he warn his little brother without revealing his own position, and worse, tipping the thugs below to the waiting ambush. War Pony pulled a small pice of polished metal from his vest pocket and waited. He watched as the riders below passed deeper into the canyon.

 

Willis was shadowing his cohorts, staying a little behind them as they rode. When they had moved beyond him, Israel angled the makeshift mirror so as to flash a signal to his brother across the way, all the time watching the single rider to avoid being seen.

 

Just in time, Painthorse caught sight of the flashing signal and moved away from the rim. He watched as Marsh Willis passed less than twenty paces from where he'd crawled into hiding. "Close!" he whispered to himself.

 

When Marsh dissapeared, Dan moved back to the edge of the wash and signaled to Badger who waited farther down the wash. The young Indian then carefully took up a position behind the advancing cutthroats, drawing even with his brother who had done likewise.

[Blackwater 53393]

Badger caught the signal from Painthorse at the same time as the band of cutthroats rode into sight. His hiding place was good enough to keep the riders from catching a glimpse of him, but still let him read the message.

 

He studied the opposite side of the canyon, looking for the stalker he'd been warned about. From here he could also see Hatfield's spot, so he passed on the warning. Just as he finished his hand signals, he spotted Marsh Willis skulking along the crest of the canyon rim.

 

He watched carefully to see if the outlaw had spotted him and at the same time prepared to light the fuse that ran to the shack. The riders were still too far from the trap for it to work. If he set the dynamite off too soon the others would have little chance of taking this large a gang down.

[Blackwater 53393]

Hatfield chose the rider below that was farthest to the rear for his first target. The sign from Badger had warned him of Marsh Willis' approach and how far the outlaw was from his position. He pulled out the Remington revolver and placed it on a rock beside him.

 

Most of the gang was now nearing the cabin below. Another minute or so and all hell would break loose. The Shawnee brothers were shadowing the outlaw riders and the bushwhacker who was now closing in on him. "Just a minute more," he pleaded to the spirits.

 

Hatfield set his sights on his target one more time and took up the set trigger on his rifle. This first shot would be the only one he could take this much care on. He heard a rustle in the brush not far away and knew the time was now.

 

Charley had struck the first match just as he heard the report from Hatfields first shot. He touched the flame to the fuze and watched as it sputtered and then hissed away to find its other end.

 

The riders below scrambled for cover in panic, many seeking the shelter of the shack as shots bored into the the mob from above and behind. A pair of riders charged past the building only to be met with screaming hot lead from J. Mark Flint's big bore rifle. The lead rider was knocked from the saddle, toppling directly into the path of the horse and rider behind. This rider tried in vain to draw rein only to be hammered by Flint's second shot.

 

Marsh Willis spotted the smoke from the fuze and searched desperately for where it had started. He pulled up his Sharps and fired into the spot where he suspected it originated.

 

Fortunately for Badger, he had moved to the spot where he'd placed his second fuze. At that moment the charge beneath the cabin roared to life sending shattered lumber and dirt and rock cascading into the air along with several of the bandits who were closest to the blast.

 

Israel War Horse fired several rounds at Willis who ducked and dissapeared from view, and turned to spray the milling outlaws with his remaining bullets. He dropped the empty rifle and drew the pistol from his belt. His brother was taking shots at the riders, and bullets poured into the melee as they watched and fired. Smoke billowed from either side of the wash and from the floor of the casnyon in response. "These animals won't go easy," he shouted to Dan, who took lead in his left arm as he watched.

 

Hatfield felt searing heat in his right side and heard the roar of the shot as it bored into his ribcage. He fell to the ground and rolled from right to left grabbing the pistol he'd placed beside him.

 

Marsh Willis leered at him from a few yards away, still holding the Sharps. "See you in hell, you bastard!" he shouted as he chambered another round.

 

"You first!" Hatfield bellowed as the Remington spit flame and lead. Red flowers appeared on Willis' shirt at the same time as geysers of pink spray gushed first from his left eye and then his right shoulder. Hatfield watched as the dance of death carried Marsh Willis to his just reward. Then it seemed as though a cloud had blocked the sun.

 

The battle below raged on, but Hatfield could only hear the sounds. He was powerless to rejoin the fight, and as he raised his eyes to the sky he could only barely see the raven flying North and a hawk circle lazily above him.

[Yellowhouse Sam # 25171]

Whoee! bout 57 pages we've written.

[Blackwater 53393]

Put some more on us, Sam.

 

I'll have more before the weekend is over.

[Yellowhouse Sam # 25171]

Put some more on us, Sam.

 

I'll have more before the weekend is over.

 

Maybe in a day or so. Right now my throat feels like somebody wire brushed it and poured coffin varnish down it.

[Blackwater 53393]

Maybe in a day or so. Right now my throat feels like somebody wire brushed it and poured coffin varnish down it.

 

GET WELL SOON, PARD!

[Yellowhouse Sam # 25171]

Thinkin the coffin varnish is finally workin

[J. Mark Flint #31954 LIFE]

Sorry to be absent, had a tornado come through Thursday night and do a bit of damage at the homestead. I'll be glad to provide firewood to anyone that wants to come cut it though.

[Whiskey Business]

Sorry to be absent, had a tornado come through Thursday night and do a bit of damage at the homestead. I'll be glad to provide firewood to anyone that wants to come cut it though.

 

That's terrible. Hope no one was hurt.

[Blackwater 53393]

Sorry to be absent, had a tornado come through Thursday night and do a bit of damage at the homestead. I'll be glad to provide firewood to anyone that wants to come cut it though.

 

Hey Neighbor! Call me at home if you need help. I can empty out the big green truck and haul off stuff if you need.

 

Glad you're OK.

[Apache Hawk 60642]

J Mark...just damn glad yur alrat.

 

 

Don't know what I do in dis winter ifin' ya stopped writin' them stories !!

[J. Mark Flint #31954 LIFE]

I'm fine, Spent the afternoon cutting wood and still have a few hours work left to go. Blackwater, if you want wood, I have plenty, even have a fair bit that is seasoned. I have some big pieces of cedar that might be nice to make some hat stretchers out of. . . hmmmm. . . Thankfully without foliage on the oak tree, it is fairly easy to cut up and I'll probably just stacking the brush out front and cut anything of size into firewood.

 

I'd be done cutting wood, except I have several neighbors that were hit harder than I was and two of them are older and I cleared one's driveway that was covered with three trees and started on the other but ran out of daylight.

 

As to missing my writing, I have to laugh, there are two great threads, where I have done amazing heroic deeds without even typing most of them. I am not sure when my character became fair game for anyone to use, but it is kind of fun to watch happen.

 

I'll try and get some writing in soon.

 

Adios and if you hear a freight train and there are no tracks "DUCK!!!!"

[Blackwater 53393]

Glad you're okay pard, I'll check to see if somebody needy can use any wood and let you know. I know Willy McCoy burns wood and would probably help with the clean up if he isn't already working down where he lives. I'll talk to him tomorrow.

 

Again, you've got my number. Ah hell!! I'll call you tomorrow.

[Yellowhouse Sam # 25171]

As to missing my writing, I have to laugh, there are two great threads, where I have done amazing heroic deeds without even typing most of them. I am not sure when my character became fair game for anyone to use, but it is kind of fun to watch happen.

 

I'll try and get some writing in soon.

 

Adios and if you hear a freight train and there are no tracks "DUCK!!!!"

 

Well, you pretty much showed your brand in "Truth is Stranger Than Fiction". Guess it kinda stuck...with me anyway, and its fairly easy to conjure "what Flint would do". Have to admit you've fooled me a few times though.

 

Glad you came out okay. Its rapidly approaching that season here in Tornado Alley.

[Warhorse]

BTT.

 

Let's not let this one get away. It's to the most exciting part now.

 

Hmmmm. Maybe work in a tornado? It seems that Flint has some experience there.

 

 

Warhorse