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RANGER'S JUSTICE - Desert Trail


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Well Forum readers we have an Official Title to our Short Story.

 

 

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Here are samples of some of the POSTS as they will appear in the final version.

   

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Here are the contributors to the story-line in order of appearance:

 

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Join the fun and read the continuing story of undercover Texas Rangers,

the Brett Black gang, and other nefarious characters.

 

Pards:

    Together let's create a short (or as long as it may become) Old West Story written entirely by the SASS WIRE SALOON writers.

    I will start it off with an opening sentence.

    Each POST should include a sentence or two that will keep the story line going, whatever that turns out to be.:o:(

    The end result will be an OFFICIAL SASS WIRE SALOON Short Story that we can consider submitting to the Cowboy Chronicle.

    What say we get this story going........

 

                       RANGER'S JUSTICE - DESERT TRAIL

                                                                              

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  The Lazy Boy Kid was hurting bad, his left shoulder throbbing from the 45 Colt slug that torn through

   him like a freight train with no brakes.

 

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As he was laying there he could not help but think of what will happen to his family back home with out him .

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Seeing the roan standing about 60 yards away, he struggles to his feet and began slowly walking towards him. 

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Hearing that familiar sound, he looks down, a rattler.

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He fired and the bullet missed just an inch away from the serpent but close enough to scare it off, now he thought about how he was going to stop the bleeding in his shoulder.

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He painfully mounted his horse and headed west to the nearest town.

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The desert heat rising like a phoenix stifiling what precious air remained causing him to become delirious and wishing that the hanging he had escaped had done it's job instead.

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About to pass out in pain, he takes out his hoggin' string, wraps it around his steeds neck tying both ends to his arms to keep him from falling off.

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An old man with weather wrinkled eyes and white hair squinted at something moving a mile or so off, something that looked like a man laid over a horse's neck and that horse movin' at a patient walk

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The old man decides to go investigate so he pulls his trusty Winchester from it's scabbard, levers a round into the chamber and nudges his horse forward in the direction of his new found apparition.

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Easing up on the figure, The Old Desert Rat discovered a wounded man passed out and tied to his horse.

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Quickly he looks around while firmly holding onto his rifle, could this be a trap?

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Noticing the dark crimson patch on the riders vest, near his right shoulder, the old man dismounts and slowly moves towards the wounded rider,  with the rifle still in his grip.

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He reached up and removes the rope from the man's arms and eases him down from the saddle wondering all the time, is this a bad guy or a good one?

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The Old Man calmly talks to his horse (Ghost), as though his horse understands every word:  "Ghost, looks like this young feller is in a serious situation.  Lucky WE came upon him when WE did.   Let's see if WE can squeeze a little water between his lips".

 

 

..........Widder

 

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The old man meanders over to Ghost, reaches down in a small burlap sack and takes out a small chunk of jerky and a little bottle.

 

He tells the young feller to chew on the jerky and take a swig of some 'splo'.......then tells the young feller...   "Ain't had a good SEEEEGAR in months".

 

 

..........Widder

 

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Ed chocking a bit on the jerky, looks up and mutters, watch out behind us, then begins to fade out of conscious.

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The old man looked around but then realized no one was coming and the Ranger was either dreaming or hallucinating!

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Just out of curiosity and cautiousness, the Old Man knew of a rock cliff area close by with a good overhand which they could safely bed down for the approaching nightfall.   Being under the overhang meant no-one could sneak up behind them.

 

But the Old Man was also cunning.   He built a small camp fire about 200 yards away from where they were gonna bed down.   If anyone was following the Ranger, they would surely make themselves known during the night, either thru mischievious actions or shadows.

The Old Man didn't reach an old age by being stupid.

 

 

..........Widder

 

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As night fell,  the desert heat vanished and in its place a cold chill descended upon them both. The old man knew many a night like this and the dangers it could bring. 

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The Ranger shivered in the wet and cold while the old man was covering him with blankets.

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"If I could ketch that sawed off hard rock miner sledge hammerin' inside my shoulder I'd twist his head off," he thought, wishing powerfully for a good cold long tall drink of springwater from back home ... from that rock lined spring he cleaned out as a lad ... he heard children laughing, and suddenly he was a barefoot boy again, running through the woods, through sun-shafts and leaf-shadows and smelling the Appalachian woods again, right before he passed out again.

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The closer the horse and rider came into view the old man saw that it was an indian on a spotted pony with a quiver of arrows slung across his back and a bow, he looked friendly as he had his hands up!

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